


A Tail of Two Pooka

by Kayasurin



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: 'Cause what just happened?, Because Tooth isn't waiting forever, Beserker issues, Bunny has issues, Dream Pirates, Eventual Cat-boy Jack, F/M, Fearlings, Jack's got a hidey hole, Like, M/M, No one knows where it is, North needs to man up, Not even him really, Pitch ends up in pain, SOMEONE had to create them, Secretly not the species you thought you were, Which means Jack is confused, Worse than Fearlings and Dream Pirates, and more!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 98,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayasurin/pseuds/Kayasurin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack thinks he knows where he's from, and he's not right. Not wrong, but not right. Bunny thinks he knows what happened Easter Sunday of '68 and he's way, WAY off. Pitch has a new weapon, but then things turn for the worse, for him. North and Tooth give Sandy a headache. And things much, much worse than mere Fearlings and Nightmares are coming for Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Fear

Jack chewed on his lower lip, and pawed over the back of the cave. It was somewhere around here. A crack in the rock, no wider than the tips of his fingers, and appearing no deeper. The cave itself was just as shallow and unassuming as the crack he was looking for. But it meant shelter, safety- some place he could escape to get away from _them_.

He didn't know what _they_ were, exactly. Not what mortals called them, or had called them, or-

Small rocks crunched and scraped together under the weight of an approaching body, and Jack almost went out of his mind with panic. He clawed at the rock under his fingers, nails and skin shredding with near equal speed. Streaks of blood began to mark the stone.

No, no _no no no nonononononono_ he couldn't let them catch him he couldn't he couldn't he-

There! The crack!

Jack wedged the tips of his fingers into the crack, and concentrated. Frost, his namesake, curled over the stone, originating from the points of contact. It glittered blue and white in the faint light, and the cool tingling eased the building pain in his fingertips.

The rock in the back of the cave began to groan, and something deeper in the living stone _crunched_ , loud enough to be heard outside the cave.

Loud enough for _them_ to hear.

Jack moaned in terror as _they_ moved towards his cave with deliberate speed. They had him trapped, and they knew it. The only way for him to escape was to rush from the mouth of the cave and fly up into the air; the air was the one place where _they_ couldn't follow.

He wasn't fast enough to get into the air before _they_ caught him, though. He already knew that, somehow. Fragments of nightmare, horrific injuries that had left him scarred under his clothing.

Jack left off icing the rock, and fumbled his staff into his hands. He could hold them off, maybe, for long enough.

Long enough...

What was _taking_ so long?

Behind him, the stone made another deep _crunch_ , and then groaned. The sound was all but indescribable; the only sound that was similar, in Jack's opinion, was that of glacier ice groaning and rasping against itself as it moved in its slow, ponderous journey to the lowlands and sea.

The crack behind him flashed brilliant white, so bright it cast his shadow out in front of him, stark and black, so that it stretched several feet beyond the cave mouth.

 _They_ paused, and then began moving closer, faster, their steps heavier on the rock-strewn bank.

Jack struggled not to hyperventilate, even as his breathing sped up, air hissing in and out between his clenched teeth.

And then he felt the rock behind him begin to move. It slid apart, as the crack became wider and wider until it was the entrance to a small, narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for Jack to crawl through. He backed into it, terrified gaze focused on the cave entrance, and the gray, rainy scenery outside.

 _They_ appeared in the entrance, nothing more than so many shadows with glowing red-and-yellow eyes. Jack yelped, and backed up faster, scraping knees and knuckles raw against the rough stone.

The tunnel began to close up 'behind' him, and he had the odd, unnerving experience of watching the entrance narrow, until it sealed up once more with another flair of bright light. Beyond the rock, Jack was just able to hear one of the _things_ scream, in pain or rage, he couldn't tell.

With the tunnel safely closed, Jack's control over his emotions, such as it was, failed. He collapsed, utterly, one cheek smacking hard against the hard ground. He saw stars, groaned, and curled up on his side in something like a fetal position, shaking so hard he all but vibrated in the close confines of the tunnel. Shoulders, elbows, hips, knees and feet hit the sides of the tunnel at regular intervals, and his teeth chattered so loud and hard he was half surprised nothing cracked or outright shattered.

Safe. He was safe. Safe, where they couldn't get him. Darkness was _their_ domain, but they couldn't come _here_. Jack knew that, the same way he knew that this fear, this terror, had partial roots in an outside source. And the shaking was a reaction to that outside source being cut off... well. That and relief, and an outpouring of the terror he'd done his best to keep locked in the back of his mind where it couldn't make things... difficult.

The primal, instinctive terror began to fade, and Jack's shakes started to ease. He still trembled, shaking hard the way he'd seen humans, borderline hypothermic, do.

As he calmed, Jack began to warm up. He was always cold, but the difference between his usual chill and how cold he got when frightened was as different as a brisk autumn day and the cold of a killer winter storm. The one could be pleasant, was often fun, while the other... wasn't.

He sat up, as much as he could in the tunnel, and felt around for his staff. Then, with it in hand, he began the near-painful process of turning around, so he could crawl forwards instead of back. It took work- at one point, he was fairly sure he was in a position no one human-shaped should ever be able to take. For that matter, snakes would probably find it difficult, because spines weren't meant to _bend_ that way.

He persevered, and ended up facing further down the tunnel, not that he could see anything. He had good night vision, as such things went, but he needed at least a _little_ light to see. In this tunnel, there wasn't any. Jack ignored the dancing colors and dots his eyes were convinced were in front of him, and began crawling forwards.

Time had no meaning in the tunnel. His hands and knees hurt, with a fresh spurt of pain whenever he scraped them even more, but apart from that he felt timeless, changeless. His back didn't hurt. He couldn't feel any changes in the tunnel around him to suggest he was actually moving forward. His straining eyes saw only darkness and imagined shapes, and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, his own heart, and the slow, continual grind of the rock closing behind him.

If he hadn't been used to this, to the tunnel, he might have panicked. He had, when he'd first started traveling through to his shelter. Many times, in fact. He still felt a reflexive flutter of claustrophobic what-ifs, although never strong enough to drive him to the old, thrashing fear.

And then, ahead, _real_ light.

Jack sighed with relief, and crawled faster. The rock under his hands and knees began to smooth out, and when he reached the exit, there was a thick covering of moss for about a foot into the tunnel.

He had made it. He was safe, now.

Jack stood up, and winced as his knees protested. Blood trickled down his shins, a darker red than was normal for humans. But then, while he looked human, Jack had long come to the conclusion that he wasn't. Humans didn't live, changeless and unseen, for centuries. They couldn't call ice and snow with a touch and bit of will, they couldn't fly, and sad as it was to say, they were easier to kill than Jack was. Injuries Jack could shrug off, or ignore with a bit of effort, could end a human life.

The damage to his knees and hands was nothing. Washed clean, and given the space of a single night, and he would be healed. By morning the scrapes would be covered with shiny new skin, pure white and without the- for him- healthy blue tint the rest of his skin had.

Jack sighed, and looked around his shelter. He had heard a man, once, describing something called an 'oasis', found in deserts. Deserts were places Jack was always reluctant to go, cold at night and blistering hot during the day. He had tried, once, curious about those 'oasis' things, but he'd been caught out by the sun. He'd been blinded by the light off the pale sand, and burnt by the heat, and so had never dared go back.

But the idea of an oasis had continued to appeal to him, so he had... investigated. He'd heard about them back during... what was that time period called now, the Victorian era? England's colonists had been going _everywhere_ , and there'd been, what, revolts in mining towns somewhere? Africa or Wales or... well, he didn't quite know.

He had actually read books, or at least, looked at the pictures. Jack knew he'd been able to read once, had vague and foggy memories of learning how to write out the different letters, but that skill was lost to him now. As time went on, more books became available, and Jack had flipped through the pages, eyes widening ever more with every new picture.

An oasis, he knew now, was a source of water in the endless heat and sand of the desert. It was a place where things grew. And it was beautiful, though the beauty was strange to Jack's eyes. Dusty green plants, sparse and clearly struggling, against yellow and white sand... He could see the appeal. He just wasn't sure he felt it.

 However different his shelter was to a desert oasis, he still felt the idea applied. Here, in his shelter, there was beauty. There was safety, when all around was danger. And when the world turned and North America became nearly too hot to stand, there was a chill to the air here.

It was a cave, but such a cave! It was bigger than the caves Jack was used to on the surface, even the ones that led into sprawling, subterranean labyrinths. Those were usually narrow things with low ceilings, or the ones Jack knew of were. This, though, this was a giant dome, like a mixing bowl turned upside down so Jack stood inside the curve. The walls were smooth, mostly, flecked with the occasional fist-sized crystal that glowed, bright enough for Jack's eyes, dim enough that he had no difficulty sleeping.

The arching roof of the cave was tall enough for several small trees to grow inside it, trees that somehow thrived in the dim light. A red cedar, only twenty feet tall, brushed its highest branches against the cave roof in some breeze too faint for Jack to feel. Near the tunnel entrance was a silver birch, even smaller, slender and with its white and black patterned bark peeling off in narrow strips to reveal the creamy-golden wood underneath. A sugar maple, squat, took up pride of place very near the center of the cave. Its trunk was so big around that it would have taken five of Jack to wrap their arms around it, and even then their fingers would barely brush. The branches were thick enough for one slender young man to sleep near-comfortably in them. The mounds and hollows created by the tree's roots, however, were more often used as a bed, as they were covered in thick moss.

The cave had a few short branches off the sides, a bit like side caverns. There were three such caverns; one, marked by a shrub juniper, was the smallest, and where he stored food when he had enough worth squirreling away. A second cavern, with a small mulberry bush to one side, was even more perfectly situated for sleeping. There, the walls of the cavern seemed to have been carved into trundle-like beds, or one large, shallow bowl perfect for heaping high with the rushes that grew around the bases of the trees. A third cavern was marked with a patch of crowberries, although Jack didn't quite know what to do with it yet. So far, it stood empty.

And all the plants, no matter what the season above, wore their autumn colors. The maple was a riot of reds and oranges, the birch wore pale yellow, while the cedar's leaves a darker red than the maple's. The juniper, mulberries, and crowberries were always at the perfect stage of ripeness. The moss that covered the ground were a dark red-brown, and the rushes were always dark green at the root, fading to a handsome yellow.

When Jack slept, frost covered the caverns in a glittering white sheet, delicate whorls and graceful lines turning everything into silver-gilt sculptures. And when he woke, for a time it was as though he moved through a perfect autumn morning, always the right temperature, and he could and often did spend hours watching as the frost melted as the 'day' warmed.

Autumn! Was there any better time of year? It was never too cold in autumn, and there was the quicksilver, bright anticipation of the snow to come. Fallen leaves were raked into piles and then children either jumped into them, or the piles were burned. Fireplaces were made ready and the wood smoke made everything smell... just a touch better. There was fresh ciders and the first of the harvests, an abundance of meat both wild and tamed as herds and flocks were thinned for the coming winter. There was a delight, a joy, in the ripe crops as they were brought in.

Jack loved winter, when his powers came the easiest, when there were bright days and laughing children that played in the snow. Snowball fights and snowmen and skiing and sledding and skating and hot chocolate and warm fires when one was exhausted and chilled.

But with winter came long, dark nights, and the fear that the food might run out. Tempers wore short as people were confined indoors. Storms threatened people on the road or in their homes, and the cold stole its tithe of lives every year.

Jack knew this.

And, too, _they_ stalked the long nights.

Winter was beautiful, winter could be fun, but winter was also frightening and could be quite, quite deadly.

Jack knew this, too.

He sighed, and moved over to lean against the sturdy old maple. Here in his shelter, his autumn oasis, the fear could not touch him.

Jack looked around, and sighed with pure, uncomplicated pleasure. How had he ever survived before finding this place? It'd only been in... What year had it been? 1967? '68? '69, even? Somewhere around there.

 _They_ had caught him, as near as he could remember. And then... something had happened. Something terrible, but it hadn't touched Jack.

And when he woke, he'd been here. His wounds, half-healed. He'd thought himself trapped, before he'd discovered the tunnel to the surface.

Jack did wonder, sometimes, just what had saved him from _them_. Mostly, he tried not to think about it.

He pushed away from the maple, and moved to the cavern he used for food. There was a small trickle of water there, that pooled into a small cup carved into the rock, no doubt for that very purpose. He had to clean his hands and knees, and see about something to eat. Then he could sleep, and heal, and when he woke everything would be bright and new again.

Perhaps he would stay down here for a few weeks. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to sleep, in safety, knowing that he would wake in the morning.

It was almost spring. Jack always got nervous around this time of year. Easter, he thought. Something about Easter seemed dangerous to him.

But one couldn't hide forever, Jack told himself. Next year... perhaps, next year, he would be brave. And stay above ground, and watch these egg hunt things the children were so enthusiastic about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since people seemed to want to see a sneak peek of Kitty Jack (Currently A Tail of Two Pooka... Three guesses as to what that means...) here you go.
> 
> **Fair warning, this will NOT be updated until after Moonlight and Shadows (AKA Ghost Jack) finishes.**
> 
> Credit to Corgi for helping me find the title.


	2. Chapter One - Dark Shadows Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since pretty much everyone got it right- Yup, crack chapter was crossed over with Kung Fu Panda 1- have chapter one.

Aster hopped up out of the tunnel, and bolted for North's front door as fast as he could go.

Damn snow and bloody cold, felt like Angerona was chasing his tail. Winter in North America rather ensured it was winter in the North Pole, and fucking _hell_ it was freezing out!

And like the bastard he was, he'd gone and forgotten that little fact, again, and forgotten his clothing, again, and so he had to race against hypothermia and frostbite, _again_.

Fuck the whole goddamn world, he was done. Just fucking done. Okay? Done.

Aster paused just inside the door, heedless of the odd looks the yeti were giving him. _No, no, no. Breathe. Control. In, and out. Ebb and flow. Relax._

It would've worked, too, if bloody Jack fucking Frost hadn't flown in through the once-more open door, sending a gust of cold wind curling around Aster- and probably unintentionally around the Pooka's privates. Holy fucking goddamn it, _cold_!

"Jack!" he snarled, voice deep and tone vicious. "What the- watch it, you right blooming arse!"

The lad flinched back, his eyes wide and smile dropping. "Right. Sorry, Bunny."

The Pooka chose to grunt, instead of... doing something he was sure they would _all_ regret. He smoothed his hackles down with one hand, and sighed. "That was out of line," he grumbled. "It... Haven't slept a while, is all."

Jack eyed him sidelong, but then shrugged and dropped down to the floor. "Yeah," he said, and held his staff loosely in both hands, leaning up against one shoulder. "I can get pretty tetchy when short on sleep, too."

Aster opened his mouth to reply, but then doubled over, coughing and laughing and choking all at once. _Tetchy_. Ooooh, the very idea of Jack feeling... He bit his lower lip, and shrugged helplessly at the befuddled winter spirit. Oh no, he was _not_ explaining that one.

Even if the word meant something _completely different_ , and utterly hilarious, in the Pookan language.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, once he had control over himself, and waved it off. "Let's go see what's put a burr in North's rear. Its, what, a week to Christmas?"

"Three days," Jack drawled, and shifted his staff until it was yoked over his shoulders. "Well. Four. Depends on the date line?"

Aster listened to Jack's ensuing grumbling about the International Date Line, Greenwich Mean Standard time, the entire idea of daylight savings and resetting clocks and the utter nonsense of calendars, with one ear. The complaint was, apparently, an old one; Jack seemed quite passionate about the subject, for all that he only rarely traveled beyond his region.

A smart idea, that. Before Guardianship, Aster wasn't at all sure there would have been anyone to worry or care about one minor spirit being hurt- or going missing. After, of course, there were the enemies they collected, as Guardians of Childhood. Jack was strongest in North America.

The Pooka reached over and absently guided the oblivious winter spirit around a cluster of elves and a yeti unable to see over the boxes piled high in her arms. Three days to Christmas? Huh, well, he supposed it was par for the course. Aster still got quite het about the collar when he thought about the year Jack became a Guardian. Only Easter _indeed_... Bah. That way led to seeing red and the taste of rage-bile, and...

Yeah, no. Just no.

It was only fair, though, for North to feel a little of the panic and strain of trouble popping up three days before his big day.

Jack paused in his rant, and jumped up onto a railing, balancing on the impossibly thin beam. Aster kept a wary eye on the lad, though really, Jack was too old for the sort of nursing the others seemed to feel appropriate. Boy had been on his own three hundred years, and yes, Aster did get upset a touch at the thought, but less because of Jack's apparent age and more because, well...

He knew about loneliness, is all. He'd have wished it on his worst enemy, but not some random stranger. And a stranger is all Jack had been, so he shouldn't be expected to be retroactively furious and guilty and emotional about it, should he?

Jack certainly seemed to appreciate Aster's approach to the whole situation. Which was to say, Aster ignored the past as best he could, and Jack was able to go along with it.

He grinned down at Bunny, and sauntered along, as sure-footed as a mountain goat, or one of those tightrope walkers. Certainly the railing wasn't much wider than a tightrope, though Aster had to admit the metal, covered in decorative whorls and etchings, didn't sway and bounce like a rope.

"How long did it take you to learn to do this?" Aster asked. He jerked his chin at the railing when Jack looked confused.

"Huh? Oh. I've always been able to do this." Jack's expression turned distant as he looked inwards. "Even as a hu- as a kid. Eventually I even learnt how to climb _down_ the tree, instead of just up." He grinned, bright and easy, and then skipped ahead several steps and did some complicated back flip type thing, without letting go of his staff.

He landed on the railing again, still perfectly balanced, and then turned and waggled his eyebrows at Aster.

"Look, no hands!"

"I saw," Aster said, amused despite himself. "Now get down from there before you run into something."

The brat made a face, but did as he was told. Then he swung his staff around, and charged through the chaos of the Workshop towards the command center, where North was surely pacing and fretting and yelling contradictory orders.

Aster flat out refused to hurry his steps. Besides, the obscene amount of activity was wearing enough on his control as it was. Toss in an increased heartbeat and being short of breath? No.

It'd been a long time since he'd last had an _episode_. He didn't want to knock the counter back to zero.

Besides, he... it was just that... The others had seen him like that. They'd seen him toss back a few pieces of chocolate and then... and they thought that was it, that it was the chocolate, not some failing in _himself_. They'd seen it, they thought they understood it, and they'd most likely forgotten about it, it'd been... what? Five centuries now? Almost six?

Jack hadn't, though. He didn't know Aster as anything but a cranky, overgrown rabbit with a thing for painted, candy eggs and art, and it was... nice.

Aster huffed at the direction of his thoughts, and wished he were back in his Warren. Nice, warm, _soothing_ Warren, with a cuppa at his elbow and a book he'd read a dozen times in hand, and maybe something classical on his specially modified phonograph. That was the perfect recipe for thinking difficult, _emotional_ thoughts.

Well, he had long practice controlling himself, and even longer practice at shoving away uncomfortable trails of thought.

With that in mind, he reached the stairs, and started up.

He was the last to arrive, he saw. Sandy hovered next to Jack, telling some sort of story through images- or maybe it was more like a silent movie- and judging by the way Jack was grinning, it was a funny one. Tooth was dispatching her girls, although not at her old, frantic speeds. Apparently training up a few underlings so they could take up some of the burden had worked out.

North was pacing. Back and forth, like a pissed-off pendulum. His hands kept flexing, less like he was trying to make a fist and more like he was imagining strangling someone. North didn't show his anger overtly; apart from his hands and the intensity to his pacing, he looked calm and cheerful and only slightly worried.

Aster cleared his throat, and watched his friend.

North jumped, and then whirled on Aster. "Where have you been? Jack said you two arrive together, but he is here whole ten minutes before you!"

"Some of us can't fly, mate." Aster tamped down on a bubble of irritation. Not. Now.

What _was_ it about North that made irritation want to turn into anger?

And why the hell was he friends with the bloke?

North waved one hand in dismissal, and went back to pacing. "Is nothing. And you should not have been summoned."

Aster's eye twitched. Jack eyed him sidelong, and then sidled over to stand next to him. "Are you going to throw anything at North?" he muttered, while North looked like he was arguing with one of the yeti. Phil or Dave or Gemma or someone.

"No." Aster pressed his lips together, and ran a hand down the back of his neck, smoothing out the fur.

Jack's shoulders slumped. "Oh," he said. Aster frowned at him, so he added, "I just thought, you know, some of those pastel bomb things... and his beard... He'd look like he never left the sixties."

One of the problems with being an artist was having something of a _vivid_ imagination. It only took a moment for Aster to think about it, and then he was chuckling, irritation vanishing like morning dew in sunlight. "Yeah," he agreed. "But it'd be a mite bit confusing for the sprogs that stay up to see him."

Frostbite smirked. "Nah, they'd just figure on him being blitzed. Or stoned." He shrugged. "Whichever."

Aster twitched an ear. "You do realize you're never bringing sixty's slang back, right?"

"Not nearly PC enough, yeah."

"P... what? Personal computer?" Had Jack gotten a concussion?

"Politically correct. Please stop checking my head for lumps. I swear I haven't flown into any trees recently."

Aster pulled back and frowned. "Recently?"

"Did I say recently?" Jack blinked up at him, too innocently to be believed. "I meant ever. I'm going to break up the argument, wanna join?"

He shrugged one shoulder, and trailed after the winter sprite. "North," Jack whined. "North, just- why did Phil summon us? Like a trained spaniel." He frowned at the yeti. "You know I don't like that."

Phil growled something at Jack. Jack, who apparently spoke yetish- clearly proving Aster's theory that Jack was certifiable, 'cause no one sane learnt a language that was made up of gibberish and barking- scowled back.

"Yeah, well you're a controlling, arrogant, rude, jackass," he said. "Also, your breath stinks."

Phil shook a fist at Jack. Aster snarled in response, and then ducked his head sheepishly when everyone turned to look at him.

"Why did you summon us?" he asked Phil, doing what he could to divert attention from the homicidal noise he'd just made.

And on behalf of Frostbite! Why the... well, no, he knew why. As aggravating as Jack was, well, he also calmed Aster down the fastest, too. They were friends, cautious ones, with a lot of harsh words behind them that'd need dealt with, eventually.

Along with whatever had happened during Easter '68. Aster still wasn't entirely clear on it, other than there having been a large blizzard. He'd kind of lost it, a little, seen red and torn up a few trees. Thankfully he'd stepped out in an area without too many residents, or things could've been a lot worse.

If he remembered correctly, the locals had blamed the damage on a tornado or something.

He still didn't know why Jack had dropped the blizzard on North America's Eastern Seaboard. For that matter, he only knew it'd been Jack because the other spring spirits had told him. And someone must have told Jack that Aster was pretty upset about it...

Well. There'd been a lot of hearing about things from a place other than the source. Aster was just a touch leery of bringing up the subject. Jack was a good actor, a great actor, you'd never know when he was frightened. Unless you had as good a nose as Aster.

Fear had a scent. And whenever Easter '68 came up, Jack was afraid.

It was... worrying.

A little. A little worrying.

Aster shook his head, and glared at Phil. " _Well_?"

North heaved a sigh, over loud and over dramatic, and headed back towards the others. "Is Pitch," he snapped. "Has been lurking for last month. But there is no _time_ to waste on Pitch with Christmas so soon!"

No... time...

Someone was growling. Loudly.

Oh. Wait. That was him.

"You had no problem when it was three days to _Easter_ ," he snapped, clinging to his fraying control with all his strength. But no, when it was North's holiday, Pitch could go seeking out all the trouble he could, it didn't matter, because _North's_ holiday was the one on the line-

Jack looked worried, and then, mischievous. "What, worried you can't match Cottontail here?" Jack asked. He planted his staff, and then hopped up onto the crook. "I mean, if not for the whole... but Bunny does everything on his own. You've got..." He made a show of looking around, and shook his head. "Wow. I think the elves are multiplying."

He paused, and looked disturbed. "That's a freaky thought, elves multiplying..."

North cleared his throat, and looked awkward. "Is not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Jack asked, far too innocently. "I mean, if you were waiting for drama, North, the night before Christmas would've been more appropriate."

Aster felt himself start to breathe easier. Jack- Jack was poking at North, and that helped, as did the humor in the boy's voice. It was okay. Someone else saw it. Someone else wasn't going to just let it go. He... Well. He wasn't alone in standing up for Easter anymore.

"Christmas is important night! You know this!" North gestured madly at Jack, then at the rest of them. "Is celebration of light during darkest time of year, with longest nights and shortest days! Is right before New Year!"

Jack leaned to the side, defying gravity in that impossible way he favored. "Y'know," he muttered to Aster, not quite quietly enough to go unheard by anyone else, "I thought these days Christmas was a way to worship consumerism, and didn't the New Year used to be at the _end_ of Winter?" He leaned back, and added, "I still can't figure out how old I am 'cause they changed it. Jerks."

Aster chuckled, and patted Jack on the shoulder. "Stop worrying about individual years, Frostbite."

"I can worry if I want to," was the surprisingly placid reply.

North glared at them. "You are not getting it!"

"No," Jack said, "You're not. Now cut it with the crazy eyes, you know that doesn't fly. What about Pitch?"

"But Christmas-"

"You have hundreds of yeti and way too many elves for my comfort." Jack glared North down. "Now. What about Pitch?"

Everyone, including the yeti and elves in earshot, turned and stared at Jack. The winter spirit coughed, and ducked his head to try and hide the blush, but he didn't look away from North.

North coughed too, and then the fight seemed to go out of him. "Come," he muttered. "You are right. I will explain. But sleigh is out of commission! Is being prepared for Christmas night!"

Oh, thank El-Ahrairah and his Thousand Enemies... Aster didn't even _try_ being subtle with his sigh of relief.

North led the way out of the action, over to a sitting room. It looked like one of the yeti's break rooms; certainly the furniture was sized for the overgrown hairballs, and everything was covered with shed fur in shades of brown.

Tooth cleared her throat. "North? What about Pitch?"

North sat down in one of the chairs, and cradled his head in his hands. "Pitch has been roaming around South California."

"Fits, after that last earthquake," Jack muttered. Aster twitched an ear in agreement.

"He has regained strength," North said, "or so it seems. I have sent elves, and they come back... gibbering."

"Don't they always gibber?" Aster asked.

Sandy nodded, and flew through his shapes. Tooth hummed, and buzzed her wings. "I agree with Sandy. You shouldn't have kept this from us." Her look made North wince, but then the Warrior Queen clearly decided mercy was the order of the day. She flew over to hover at his side, and rested one delicate hand on North's shoulder. "However, I understand why you did it. It was the wrong decision, but I do understand."

Then she smacked his shoulder. "If you think you're getting out of this fight because Christmas is in three days, think again. Bunny did it, and so can you!"

North smiled wanly up at Tooth. "I am sorry I did not tell you," he murmured.

Jack turned to Aster and made a gagging sound. "Ew, yuck, mush," he said.

"Yeah, might want'a back away," he agreed. "Calf eyes might be catching."

Tooth turned to glare at them. Sandy smirked and nodded in agreement, so she turned her glare on him as well. North, as usual, seemed oblivious to the byplay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I got rid of the April Fool's joke. And didn't reply to reviews. Sorry guys! But have a real chapter one! (And yes- to my current knowledge, it's going to be entirely Aster's POV.) At no point in this story do I actually do a crossover. Except for a very minor one that's more borrowing a species name and design. Not an actual crossover, unless you want to have the same head canon as me... and it won't come up for a while, so.


	3. Chapter Two - Light Fading

Aster jumped out of his tunnel, and then stretched. He arched backward, almost to the point of touching the ground with his fingertips, and then straightened up.

Jack was there. Staring at him.

Aster twitched, suppressing the impulse to deck the boy, and the impulse to scream like a little girl that'd just found a frog in her sock drawer.

"Where'd _you_ come from?"

Jack ignored the question, but then, the answer was rather obvious. From the sky, of course. Jack could be impossibly quiet when he wanted to be, and he must have dropped down while Aster had been distracted.

"How'd you do that?" he asked, moving forward to poke chilly fingers at Aster's stomach. He swatted Jack's hand away, which worked for all of a second. "I mean, I'm pretty flexible, but I can't do that, so how can you?"

"Oy! What do you mean, how can I? I've got a lot more years of stretching on you, and- stop that!"

Jack pouted, but stopped trying to poke Aster in the stomach. Then he paused and made a face. "Stretching? Like, exercise? Eeeew! I knew you were the anti-fun!"

Aster frowned at Jack, and then rolled his eyes. And this from the boy who acted like he'd die if he held still for more than five seconds. Jack was a twig because of how active he was. Really, if he didn't eat as much as he did, he'd fade away in under a week.

It was rather intimidating just how much tucker Jack could stuff inside himself, and how quickly. The frost spirit could probably out-eat _North_ , if he'd wanted to.

The entire conversation might've gone downhill from there, except for the arrival of Sandy. The former Wishing Star made a face at both of them, and Aster suppressed his amusement as Jack promptly moved over to Aster's side.

And just as promptly started chattering to Sandy about... something to do with Poking man? After a few minutes of fast-paced chatter, Aster figured out that Jack was actually saying "Pokémon", but that didn't help his understanding any.

Sandy seemed to get it, though, because he was flashing images almost as fast as Jack was talking, and looking delighted the entire time.

Aster shook his head. He was never going to understand 'pop culture', and to be perfectly honest he didn't want to.

Thankfully, one of North's portals opened up and North and Tooth stepped through, cutting off the weird chatter. Jack didn't seem too upset about it. Perhaps the babbling had been nerves. Some people did that, Aster knew, though usually he found the worry-driven talk annoying. Especially when he didn't understand one word in ten.

Jack though... He looked down at the boy, and then huffed at himself. Idiot, old rabbit. And just a half hour earlier he'd been all proud- or at least, content- with how he didn't nurse Jack along like an over-anxious parent.

Mind, he didn't think he'd hit over-anxious, _or_ parent, just yet... concerned friend, that was a good one.

Oh bloody hell, he was _friends_ with Frostbite.

When'd that happen?

Aster shook his head; equal parts amused and bemused by his own self.

"Got any way to track Pitch down?" he asked, starting the conversation off before North could start complaining about timing and his sleigh being out of order.

Sandy waved one hand, and then nodded. The images of miniature nightmares were much less intimidating when only five inches tall, and made out of golden dreamsand.

"Wait, you can sense the nightmares?" Jack asked.

Well, yeah- oh, right, Frostbite wouldn't know that.

"Sandy senses all dreams," North said. "Good and bad."

Aster held very, very still. "Doesn't eavesdrop, though," he said. Sandy mock-leered at Jack, who laughed and blushed in his own way, actually going paler because of the frost covering his cheeks.

"Yeah, I can imagine. All the teenage boys alone..." Jack waggled his eyebrows at Sandy. The Sandman shuddered, and made a face.

"Sandy, is there any... I mean, I know natural bad dreams are different from those induced, and are there any here?" Tooth asked. Her wings didn't stop twitching, though they weren't going fast enough for flight.

Sandy considered that, and floated higher, until he was a good half-dozen feet over North's head. He turned in a slow circle, peering into the distance, before finally nodding and pointing towards... Huh. Nowhere Aster actually recognized. A small village-type settlement, looked like it'd been set up for a mine camp or something. Wouldn't be any children there, so why would Pitch...?

Perhaps it was only that fear was fear, even if the fear of adults wasn't quite as useful to the Boogieman.

And what miner _wouldn't_ be afraid of his own work, with the recent earthquake? Getting buried alive had to be a personal nightmare for those folks.

Aster loped along after Sandy, keeping his speed down for North. The old man had forgotten to bring one of the reindeer he'd trained to ride, leaving him reliant on his own two feet for transportation. To his credit, North moved fast for an overweight, old geezer, but Aster felt himself chafe at the slow pace.

Jack flew literal rings around the group, as much mocking the slow pace as keeping an eye out for an ambush. Good of him, that last bit.

They were, thankfully, not too far away from the mining camp, and Sandy found them a road besides. Aster ran ahead once they got closer, since North was absolute shite at scouting and Sandy was almost as bad. Tooth tried, but half the time she forgot herself and the other half got distracted by someone's teeth. Fair enough, Aster could get distracted when seeing someone utterly bullocks up a drawing, but that happened with less frequency than a pretty smile.

Jack followed along on Aster's tail. "Sandy might not mind the lovebirds," he murmured, in response to Aster's questioning look, "But I kinda do. A little."

The boy looked wistful. Not over Tooth, or North, Aster was sure of that. Maybe just the thought of being one of a pair of love birds, who knew what went on in that frozen brain.

"That an' it'd be a bad notion to start throwing snowballs at them," Aster said, voice quiet. "Hushup, we're getting close."

Jack made a face, but dropped down until he was flying low to the ground, his head almost the same level as Aster's. His expression was a study in concentration. Maybe, one day, Aster would ask him about the flying, and Jack would actually answer instead of making a joke about it.

Not now, though. There were more important things to deal with.

Aster made a face when he caught sight of the mining camp. Someone'd had the bright idea to just cut down all the trees where the camp now was, which had in turn ensured the ground became mud if it so much as _thought_ of rain. The road from the camp to town was a dark, muddy scar on the earth, while the road from the camp to the mine entrance was a second scar, equally muddy but for some reason slightly lighter in color.

Jack perched on a bush, not even making the twigs bend any. "Huh. Looks like something out of the gold rush era, kinda."

Only with those odd, prefab trailer-house things instead of tents, yeah. "Why do you humans insist on doing that nonsense?" Aster grumbled, and gestured at the mess.

"Hey, don't roll me up with those guys. And anyways, I'm sure the people on the ground would've been happy to not make their living area a mess. It's the bosses who don't set foot in camp more than once a year responsible for this."

Fair enough, and not what they were here for. Aster let himself creep closer, though after a certain point there wouldn't be anything by way of concealment. The humans had been quite thorough in making sure there were no living plants in the immediate area of their camp.

The two of them got as close as they dared, and then settled in to watch. It was night, so the camp was mostly silent. A few generators chugged along, surprisingly quiet all told, and there were two or three people apparently still up.

And... shadows, moving where they shouldn't have been.

Aster narrowed his eyes, and considered the moving shadows. Equine, a few of them, though a few... weren't.

Jack shivered, and actually moved sideways until his shoulder brushed against Aster's. "Creepy," he said, and nodded at the camp.

"Pitch's modus operandi."

"You're the only person who uses the full words these days."

Pity, that. "Latin was a beautiful language."

"Too many rules."

Right. Well, Pitch was down there, they'd confirmed that. Aster began to back away. "Let's get the others. I don't want to start anything without Sandy, at least."

"He's useful," Jack agreed, and followed.

They made it back to the others without incident, which was surprising enough. Either Pitch didn't know they were there- possible- or he was waiting to put on a show- which was more likely.

Once back together, the five of them moved close together. "Well?" North asked.

"Shadows. Nightmares, and something else." Possibly Pitch. Possibly fearlings.

Jack shivered again, and shifted until his shoulder was once more brushing Aster's.

"Then he is there," North said, and hit the palm of one hand with his fist.

"Oh, no," the shadows nearest them purred. "I am _here_."

They all spun to face the shadows, which meant they were all facing different directions. Aster half-closed his eyes. His vision wasn't like a humans; he saw movement better when he didn't keep looking about.

Which meant he was the first to react when Pitch attacked.

He didn't even notice who was the intended first victim, just threw the boomerang as fast and hard as he could. Next to him, Jack yelped and followed up with a blast of frost that actually managed to freeze the shadows long enough for the boomerang to wallop them.

Pitch laughed from a different patch of shadows. North swung to face the Nightmare King, Tooth watching his back.

It got more chaotic from there. Sandy's whips lashed out time and again, dispelling shadows and making Pitch curse. Jack and Tooth both took to the air, Jack attacking with his frost, Tooth dive-bombing wherever she seemed to be needed. Aster and North, both of them ground-bound, circled and circled, keeping each other at their backs, attacking when they could.

And Aster's control cracked and wavered, as it always did.

He was good at fighting. He could even enjoy a good spar. But nothing- not North, not Jack's worst pranks, the thought of his people's death or someone messing with Easter- tried his control quite so much as a down and dirty _fight_. The only thing that came _close_ was danger to children and animal abuse.

Fight or flight. Heart pumping, lungs laboring like a bellows, adrenaline making him jitter like an addict in need of a hit. The red, red rage that wanted to tear Pitch apart for his crimes, make the Nightmare King nothing more than a black smear across a large tract of land. Fear, for himself, for his friends, for the children they were protecting. And a nasty, vicious _joy_ in the fight, in using his training to _break_ things.

Like bones.

He had a monster inside, and it wanted _out_. It made him less of a fighter. Either he had to split his concentration, part focused on keeping the monster contained, or he let the beast loose. And he couldn't control the beast when it was loose.

Aster snarled, letting a bit of the rage out, and used his boomerangs like knives. Shadows split and collapsed when the enchanted wood touched them.

Nightmares screamed, and charged their little group. Where the hell had they- never mind.

At least the Nightmares took forever to put back together. When you shattered one, maybe Pitch could use the sand still, but at least there weren't any demonic black horses galloping around.

Jack landed briefly, thick hoarfrost spreading from the contact, and whipped his staff around. In all honesty, it looked like a bastard cross between a Shaolin Monk's staff kata and one of those marching band leaders twirling a baton.

Then Jack was up and out of range again, in time for North to charge through the space and land devastating blows on the nearby shadows and Nightmares.

Tooth was chasing Pitch around, undeterred by the fact that she had only her fists and he had a sword of black sand.

Really, if not for the sword, she would've been rubbing his nose in the dirt, like a naughty puppy, in seconds.

Aster turned to guard North's back, but Sandy was already there, wrapping up several Nightmares in a web of golden sand, and slowly turning the dark beasts into... eh, golden flying fish? Okay then...

Above, Jack yelled something nasty, and next Aster knew he was being slammed into by a fast-flying Frostbite. He'd have minded, except that a large mass of shadows erupted from the ground, half a dozen nasty black spikes that could've easily torn him to pieces.

Sure, as a shapeshifter, he could heal from just about anything, even re-grow lost body parts. That didn't mean pain hurt any less, or the re-growing was fun. For that matter, if he got damaged enough, well... even shapeshifters had limits.

"Thanks," he grunted, and Jack grinned, still pressed up against him but no longer flying.

"No problem, Bun-Bu- _ah_!"

"Jack!"

They'd held still just a second too long. The shadows shot up, wrapped around Jack's torso, and jerked him down into the ground.

Aster didn't even have time to react.

_He_ didn't have time to react.

Pitch let out a howling cackle, like old Baba Yaga, and vanished from where Tooth was attacking him. The rest of the attacking shadows drew back, and if there were any more Nightmares, they weren't visible.

Neither was Jack.

Aster felt the panic reach up and _strangle_ him. Jack- Jack was- and he'd saved Aster's tail, that- and he had to reciprocate, that was how it worked, and Jack- where _was_ he?

"For the record, _kiach_ , your fear tastes _delicious_."

The insult had long ceased to bother him, but he still flinched anyways. Habit, he supposed. Or just the sight of Pitch emerging from the shadows, all but wrapped around Jack. The boy was struggling, but he- he didn't have his staff.

Where...?

He almost stumbled over the offending tool, in fact, when he took a step back despite himself. He did a bit of fancy footwork to kick it up into one hand, though it meant putting away one of his boomerangs.

"Let him go, Pitch," North said, voice soft. Dangerously so. His swords seemed to glint with an eager light as he shifted them to a better attack position.

Tooth buzzed her wings in preparation for a charge.

Pitch held Jack tighter, and smiled, revealing dagger-like teeth. Had he changed his dental just to be more intimidating?

"Now, now," he purred. One hand started sneaking under the hem of Jack's sweater. The frost spirit screamed, voice muffled by Pitch's other hand, clamped tight over his mouth. If the scream hadn't sounded so _angry_ , Aster wouldn't have been alone in losing it.

But Jack did sound angry, so Aster was able to cling desperately to control.

Tooth, on the other hand, flipped her lid.

She charged forward, somehow managing to steal a sword from North as she passed him. She gave a barbaric war cry, one that had Aster flattening his ears against the volume, and then did her best to decapitate the Nightmare King.

North and Sandy both moved to flank her, give their assistance, but the shadows reacted faster than they. One long tendril, like an octopus tentacle, wrapped around Tooth, catching and bending her wings at a painful angle, before throwing her aside. Sandy caught her before she hit the tree, but not by very much. And it was enough of a distraction that he wasn't able to dodge when North was thrown back into him.

"Charming." Pitch shifted so he wasn't caressing Jack's stomach anymore, and vanished into the shadows again.

This time he came out on the other side of the group, so they had to spin to keep him in sight.

Aster trembled with the need to let go and tear the bastard apart, but- he didn't dare.

If he let the monster out, he'd do worse to Jack, to the other Guardians, than anything Pitch could or would.

So he had to keep control.

But it was so very, very hard to do.

"You're all so afraid," Pitch murmured, and then closed his eyes as if to savor that fear. "It's _delightful_. I suppose you're wondering why I've got Jack in my arms, hm?"

The boy in question yelled again, and tried to stomp on Pitch's feet. The fear spirit simply lifted him up off the ground with ease, using height and greater strength to his advantage.

Aster snarled, and took two lunging steps forwards, grip tight enough on Jack's staff to imprint the grain of the wood on the pads of his fingers. "Pitch," he growled, and then snarled again, words failing him.

Red, red rage began to creep in from the corners of his vision, everything narrowing down to the Boogieman holding Jack and grinning, grinning, with those _fangs_ and that _smarm_ and if he didn't _get his hands off Jack_ , Aster was _removing them_. **_Permanently_**.

Bile, the taste of it, was heavy on the back of his tongue, and his throat burned as though he was about to pull a Fafnir and breathe fire.

Pitch laughed at him. _Laughed_! "Aw, does the widdle bunny-wabbit care? That's a surprise."

Then the Nightmare King yelped and pulled his hand away from Jack's mouth. Jack howled, and began kicking and thrashing with all his strength. His lips, Aster noticed, back in the sane corner of his mind, were stained red with Pitch's blood.

He'd _bitten_ Pitch?

Good on him.

"Enough," Pitch snarled, and spun Jack around. He slapped the boy across the face with his bleeding hand, and then flung him to one side.

At least he'd _let go_ of Jack.

"I had a speech all prepared, and you had to go and ruin it," Pitch snarled, and- what was that? It looked like pollen, only black. "Here! Enjoy my new weapon!"

Then he threw the black pollen at Jack. Jack breathed in despite himself, helped out by a kick to the stomach.

Aster had started moving the moment Pitch had thrown Jack aside, but there was too much distance to cover. Seconds, but seconds was too long. The pollen reached Jack's face. Jack breathed in. Pitch laughed.

And then Jack screamed, high, thin, mortally _terrified_.

And Aster lost it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Easter (yesterday), have a chapter. I'd have posted this yesterday, but my step-cousin's wedding melted my brain. (In the unlikely event I ever decide I need to get married... Speeches will have word limits enforced by cudgel.)
> 
> Anyways. Jack! Bunny! Oh no, what's going to happen?!


	4. Chapter Three - This is Gonna Hurt

Everything was red. Red in his mind. Red to his eyes. Red on his tongue, and red beneath his claws. He was drowning in the red. But still there was black, a nasty smear of it that danced away and around the red, laughing, mocking him in a dead language.

Aster roared in fury, some dim, distant corner of his mind screaming for control. The rest of him howled for blood, lusted for it. _Needed_ it, as much as his next breath, the next beat of his primary heart.

Other colors joined him in attacking the black. Aster snarled at them because they _got in his way_ and he needed to _end_ the black, _destroy_ it, remove it from _existence_. He did. No one else! This was _his_ kill, he would not let it be stolen!

And then the red was shattered, by a high, thin cry of pure fear. A cry he could barely hear, so why should the others notice?

"Bunny!"

Aster whirled, the red falling away so he could _see_ again.

And he saw Jack.

The frost spirit keened, a tiny sound of pure fear, and Aster found himself stumbling over to the boy without a conscious decision being made. The others could handle Pitch. He... he had to take care of Jack.

"Frostbite?" he whispered, and knelt down beside the boy.

Carefully, so careful, he reached over and brushed at Jack's hair. Jack's eyes fluttered, and his wildly rolling eyes focused briefly on Aster's face.

"Bunny?" he asked, sounding wary and hopeful and utterly despairing. Aster bit back a sob.

"Yeah, mate, it's me," he whispered.

"Bunny," Jack said again, his expression twisting. The hope fell away, the despair became resignation, and the wariness...

The wariness was fear.

Jack stared up at Aster with resignation and fear, and then recoiled from him, as violently as possible, screaming. Aster reached for Jack's wrist, and the boy screamed again. In the screaming were words.

'No'. And 'don't'. And 'please'.

He didn't know how long he spent, kneeling beside Jack, listening to him scream and beg and call out Aster's nickname. Long enough.

When the others joined him, them, he didn't argue when North was the one to pick up Jack. Didn't argue when Tooth fished in North's pocket for a portal.

Just stumbled along after them, dread wrapping dead-cold fingers around his spine.

* * *

North started bellowing for yeti and elves the moment they crossed through the portal. Possibly even before that. "Isotta! Daryl! Jangle and Bangle! Leafy, you go get Dr. Stephen, Быстро!"

Aster's concentration, his attention, was bound up in the pathetic whimpers and pleas Jack was making. Not even the noise and hectic pace of the Workshop could distract him from the boy, cradled in North's arms. Jack was thrashing, but North had him restrained in the simplest method possible; a hug.

Things maybe blurred on him for a bit there, because while he had a clear memory of stepping through the portal, of the working yeti and elves turning to stare in shock at their entrance, he didn't remember the trip through the workshop to the medical ward. No workplace, not even a magical one like North's Workshop, was ever injury free. The medical ward had been set up to deal with the basics. Aster blinked to see three yeti- one wearing a white lab coat, of all things- and two elves waiting.

"Pitch attacked him," North explained, and passed him over to the smallest of the three yeti. The two elves began running around, collecting various instruments and a basin of water.

The lab coat-wearing yeti moved over to Aster, and grabbed his chin in one large hand.

Aster snarled, the sound more like an enraged wolf than anything a rabbit might make, and tried to jerk free. The yeti growled back, and then shone a penlight into Aster's eyes, first one, and then the other. Finally, the yeti let go of Aster's chin, and backed up a couple steps.

Absently, the Pooka noticed that, along with a lab coat, this yeti had a nametag. The name "Stephen S." had been stitched onto the breast pocket in what he suspected was loving detail.

The yeti, presumably Stephen, turned and yowled at North. North muttered back in Russian, too quickly for Aster to make out, between his growing exhaustion and shattered nerves.

Then North turned to him. "Stephen says you are unharmed, just exhausted." He paused, and added, "I thought you could only do that with chocolate to aid you."

Only chocolate...? "Did I... six arms?" Aster asked, a new kind of dread stealing over him. No. Not again.

Couldn't have been again, because he'd _come out_ of it. Whatever had happened surely hadn't involved six arms.

Please, El-Ahrairah.

"No, no extras, but... you were not here," North said, and tapped his temple.

Tooth looked up from where she was helping the two yeti- what were they, nurses? Something like that- remove Jack's sweater. "You didn't recognize us," she said. Jack moaned and writhed as the yeti worked, trying to curl up to protect his vulnerable stomach, while they did what they could to keep him stretched out long enough to get his clothing swapped out for one of those paper gown things.

Aster moved closer to the bed, and then closer still when Tooth gasped.

It took a second, mostly because Jack was so pale. But his skin...

He was still wearing his pants, so no way to see if the same marks covered his legs. Even the yeti had paused to stare, Jack's chest bare, the gown not yet put on him. From shoulders to wrists, and down to where the pants kept him decent, his skin was... marked.

Some of the scars were long, some were short. They were all claw marks.

All of them.

After a long minute of staring, the yeti shook themselves out of it and wrestled Jack into the gown. He was still keening, whimpering under his breath, quieter now. Occasionally he'd flinch. His eyes were wide open, pupils blown so it was almost impossible to see the thin ring of blue around them, and he couldn't seem to focus his gaze on anything or anyone.

"Bunny," Jack whimpered, and every eye turned to Aster. " _Please_. No."

The dread that had been hovering over him crashed down.

Jack- whatever Jack was seeing, he was afraid of Aster.

And the scars... The scars were old claw marks. Not too old, they hadn't faded much. Probably within the last fifty years, maybe as far back as six decades, no longer. Probably older than forty years. Thirty, definitely, considering how pale Jack was and how little a scar would have to fade on him...

He wanted to vomit. His gorge was rising, clawing at his throat and the back of his mouth, stomach cramping and tears stinging the corners of his eyes. People were talking, but he couldn't- he couldn't make sense of the words, couldn't- he could _hear_ them, but they weren't making any _sense_.

None of this was making any sense!

Except it did. All too much.

Scars between thirty and sixty years of age. Jack, terrified out of his mind by something, but seeing Aster. Not Pitch, not any of the other nasty spirits he might've run into before being called on to join the Guardians- _Aster_.

He didn't remember what had happened Easter Sunday of '68. He'd thought he'd known. He'd been pretty sure if he'd... if he'd lost it, lost control, gone off on Jack...

He'd figured people would _tell_ him, the way they'd told him Jack had caused the storm.

But...

He staggered backwards, a fist clenched to his chest, just below the base of his throat, the other held out, for balance.

Jack whimpered again, and a tear slid down his cheek.

Aster thumped open a rabbit hole and ran as though the Prince's Thousand Enemies were at his tail.

* * *

The crystalline egg radiated a soft light that caressed the walls like a mother touching her newborn kitten. The chamber itself was bare, the walls smoothed by time, the touch of the light, and Aster's own hard work. The curve of the walls echoed the curve of the crystal; but not the etchings upon the light-egg's surface. Though it was possible, barely, for Pookan eyes to make out the faint marks, no one had ever managed to see them clearly. They were there, and for the longest time, it had been enough.

Now... Aster sighed, and uncurled faintly. He'd come to the Source of Light, the greatest of artifacts from his home world, seeing comfort and serenity. He hadn't found either.

He had bits and pieces, like an archeologist putting a ruined mural back together. He was fairly certain he knew what the picture looked like, had a fair number of parts, and the result...

He didn't like the result.

But what other possibility was there?

Fact: he couldn't remember a single thing about Easter Sunday of '68. He knew his eggs had gone out, that a snowstorm had covered most of North America, and that from the moment he'd hopped out of his tunnel into snowdrifts knee deep to the moment he'd come back to himself in the middle of an empty forest, exhausted and with the taste of blood on his tongue...

Oh. He'd forgotten about the blood.

So, there was another fact. He'd woken up with the taste of blood on his tongue. Not that he was any kind of connoisseur or judge, but... human blood was his guess.

Fact: he'd been told later, by a few other spring spirits- Pan had been one, Persephone, and Puck had even dropped by- and why did all the spring spirits he talked to have names starting with the letter P?- and told him Jack Frost was behind the blizzard.

Fact: no one seemed to know what had set Jack off, to start the storm.

Fact: ...Jack was covered in scars. Claw marks. Scars of claw marks.

Aster looked down at his hands, at his... paws. Why did he pretend? He had _paws_. Short, stubby toes, thick fur covering everywhere but the pads on the base of his toes and his palms. Sure, one of his toes was like a thumb, but...

He reached up and pressed his hands- paws, he reminded himself, _animals_ had _paws_ \- to his face.

Fact: Jack had been frightened of Aster, while in the grips of... whatever that stuff was Pitch had used.

Logic, the cold, harsh light of it, illuminated the inevitable conclusion. Easter Sunday '68, he must have lost it. Lost control. Gone on a rampage.

Found Jack.

And almost _killed_ him.

Aster whimpered, and shifted so he wasn't facing directly at the Source of Light. He didn't deserve...

"I figured you'd be here."

His head snapped up, eyes widening even as they focused on the figure in the entryway. The soft lighting made Jack look ethereal, angelic, even though Aster knew better. Jack was no angel. There was too much mischief in him, too much _life_ , too many rough spots in his personality. Yet there was no denying the way his hair glowed in the light, or how his skin became luminescent, or how the color of his eyes somehow got darker, more intense...

His primary heartbeat got stronger, faster, and his two secondary hearts sped up in turn. "Jack."

"Hey." Jack turned to study the Source of Light, squinting a little, and grinned. "Wow. This is really pretty."

He reached out towards the crystalline egg, and Aster moved before he thought about it. One hand- paw- clamped tight on Jack's wrist, stopping him. For a moment, a long moment where it felt like time stopped, he felt the fragility of Jack's bones, the rapid flutter of his pulse.

He looked up at the boy's face, not at all surprised- in fact, rather resigned- to see shock and well-hidden wariness in his expression.

"Sorry," he said, and let Jack's wrist go. Slowly. A part of him didn't want to lose even such faint contact as that. "But, ah, you shouldn't touch. Its old magic, and... well. You shouldn't, is all."

"Uh. Well." Jack rubbed at his wrist, though Aster's grip hadn't been tight enough to cause bruises, or pain.

Had it?

"Okay then," Jack said, and smiled. It wasn't his usual, open grin, but a smaller one, more restrained. Aster's hearts hurt at the sight.

But it was his fault, wasn't it? He'd... he'd hurt Jack. Of course Jack would be wary of him.

Had it always been this way, from their first real meeting when Jack was chosen, on to now? He couldn't remember, couldn't trust this new knowledge would influence his memories. The thought made him want to keen with frustration and grief, keen because he couldn't cry tears. Humans were the ones who leaked salt water from their eyes in extreme emotion.

He was old enough that _things_ didn't matter so much. _Memories_ did. And his own were suspect.

"Hey, um, Bunny? Can we... can we talk?" Jack peered up at Aster's face, his eyes soft and worried. "Maybe not here?" He glanced at the Source of Light, and tucked his hands behind his back. Like a small child told not to touch.

"Sure," Aster murmured, and nodded towards the entrance. "Let's go." He paused, and studied Jack. The boy had his sweater back, but it looked like someone had laundered it recently. Either that or the Light made the fabric look two shades brighter. "Where's your staff?"

"Dunno," Jack admitted. He shifted, so his hands were no longer held behind him. Instead, he tucked them into his sweater pocket. "Wherever you put it, I guess."

"Wherever I...?"

"The others said you took it when you panicked and ran off." Jack raised his eyebrows, and then shrugged. "But yeah, I do want to talk with you."

He'd taken Jack's staff? The boy could barely use his powers without it; no flight, nothing but a few snowflakes and a bit of frost, nothing like the sort of thing a powerhouse like him could pull off. And Aster's single action had crippled him, in a very serious way. Aster cringed at the thought, and gestured towards the entrance again.

He didn't wonder how Jack had tracked him through the many, many twists and turns and branching tunnels. Frostbite had proven himself an adept tracker, when the four of them had gotten together to play a more rough-and-tumble kind of hide and seek than most people played. After getting tagged, Jack had joined Aster in the hunting, actually finding the two fliers before Aster could figure out where they'd hidden.

It took a while to get from the part of the Warren where the Source of Light had been hidden, to the everyday nonsense with the egg fields and rivers of paint and glitter. Jack eyed the rivers warily, but Aster couldn't find it amusing. Not really. Oh, he'd laughed whenever Jack got dunked in a river, because he always came out multi-colored and sparkling, but... not now.

Maybe not ever again.

"So," Jack said, and skipped around until Aster was between him and the rivers. "Where would you put my staff?"

"Ah..." Good question. Aster hadn't been thinking very clearly when he'd bolted to hide with the Source of Light. He looked around, but nothing really jumped out at him. He was fairly certain he'd done a straight line through the Warren, no detours, but... "Let me look a few places."

"I'll go with you," Jack said, hands back in his sweater pocket.

Aster hesitated, and then shrugged. "Why not?" It wasn't like he had much of anything to hide. Anything important was locked away and hidden, and took too long to get to, even for him. There was no possible way he'd left the staff with his few remaining treasures.

Then they got started following Aster's tracks, trying to figure out where he could have left Jack's staff.

Even Jack, with his tracking skills, had trouble. Mind, Aster was no slouch at following tracks, but it wasn't something he did often. He was best when the tracks were in things like mud, or snow. The soft dirt of the Warren would be good, except that the ground was covered in a thick layer of grass, and he'd been just about everywhere in his home at least once in the last century.

Jack, though, seemed able to decipher the way the grass was growing as a paw print, or faint depressions in the ground as a spot where Aster had laid down for a nap. Not only that, but he seemed able to judge how fresh or not the marks were.

After a few hours of following Frostbite around, Jack looked up and noticed his audience for the first time. He jumped, looking shocked and twitchy, before settling down to look embarrassed. "Sorry about that. Uh, Bunny, is there something wrong?"

"Just wondering how you can do this," Aster admitted, and gestured at the ground. "Tracking," he elaborated, when the boy looked confused.

"Oh," Jack said, expression clearing. He frowned, and studied the ground. "Well, I dunno. I just do. Um, here, look..." He gestured at a depression in the ground, and sketched an outline with one finger. "See here? You were jumping off something, I guess maybe that rock there, and landed hard. Dunno why. But this is a footprint, instead of a handprint."

"Paw," Aster muttered. Jack either didn't hear him or ignored the words.

"See, you can tell 'cause there's only three toes." Jack pointed out bits of the depression that might have been toes, or just the ground. Aster couldn't see whatever Frostbite was seeing. "And I think there's even claw marks left, where your claws dug in... you were running. See, the print's heavier further forward, 'cause you were leaning forward and digging in."

Aster stared at the ground, and still didn't see a damn thing Jack had just described. Then he looked up. "How 'bout you stick with tracking and I'll keep to the painting, hm?"

The boy laughed at him. "Never hunted for your dinner, Cottontail?"

He grimaced. "My diet's closer to a rabbit than a wolf, Frostbite. No."

Jack shrugged, and went back to studying the ground. "Well, after my dad died, I was the one who got sent out hunting. Either I brought home meat, or we went hungry."

Fair enough, and not exactly something he could object to. Trophy hunters, that was a whole other kettle of fish stew.

It was late in the Australian afternoon- and so, late in the Warren's afternoon, as he'd set the light and dark cycle to mimic the land above- when Jack made a pleased sound and began moving faster, instead of the slow, glacial creep he'd been keeping to before. "These are real fresh," he said, pausing briefly to look up and grin. "And hey, they're in the line we want, too."

Aster nodded, and kept a prudent distance between them. At least, until he realized where they were heading. "Ah, Jack? Mind if I just duck ahead? It's not that... It's just..."

"This is your home and there's something private ahead?" Jack asked, and straightened up. "Yeah, sure."

Well, that was something. Aster nodded, and headed on without Frostbite beside him. He grimaced when, after he rounded a few corners, he found the staff in the last place _he_ would have looked for it. It'd been a long time since he'd headed this way, but then again, it'd been even longer since he'd last stopped by the Source of Light.

The staff was leaning up against a closed tunnel. However, the dead end looked more like someone had carved in the appearance of double doors, of the sliding variety. If Aster cared to, he could have opened those doors, and the tunnel would have led to another part of the Warren. A less... pastoral part, really. He'd closed it off after he'd resigned himself to being the Last Pooka. His personal preference was for his egg fields and the gentle warmth of spring, instead of the boreal forests and gentle chill of autumn. Or the marginal desert and heavy heat of summer. And the less said about the tundra and winter, the better.

"Why'd I drop you off here?" he asked, and picked the staff up. He studied the 'doorway', and then turned away. With his luck, the autumn forest he'd started had died off, and all that'd be past the door would be... nothing.

It was almost a pity, but he wouldn't dwell on it. There were other things to concern him now. Such as the owner of the staff.

Aster paused for a moment, and let himself sag against one side of the tunnel. He felt old. He felt old, and worn out, and his hearts were heavy with a weary grief. He'd hurt Jack, who was little better than a half-grown child. He had to make things right, somehow, but... what could possibly come close to making up for what he'd done? How could he possibly think of making reparations for his crime? Some things could not be redeemed, and near-murder of an innocent was one of them.

He did consider asking Jack's opinion, since who would know better than Frostbite what'd make things right, but... No. He had to do this himself. Otherwise it wouldn't _mean_ anything.

And he would start with returning Jack's staff. That was the absolute _least_ he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm posting this because I'm something like ten chapters ahead or so. And I got a rejection letter for my original novel, which means I need a pick-me-up before I wade into the editing and rewriting and barbaric war cries as I defeat the dreaded Info Dump. Also because I feel like making you all freak out on me, because if you think this chapter isn't awesome... -evil cackle-


	5. Chapter Four - Hope's Just a Sunrise Away

"Hey, Bunny?" Jack's voice broke into Aster's concentration, and he almost jumped and ruined the sketch he was working on. He almost turned and snarled at Jack, for not _waiting_ , for the damage he'd almost caused- but didn't.

Didn't.

He'd been trying to rein in those reactions. Jack didn't deserve them. Not from Aster; not from anyone, but _especially_ not from Aster.

"What?" he asked, once he'd checked his sketch. No damage. Thankfully.

"So, uh." Jack sauntered into view, staff held behind his back and expression carefully blank. "If a guy maybe sort of agreed to go to a slumber party and then maybe sort of remembered that said slumber party would be his first one ever and he doesn't know the etiquette... um..."

"Jamie invited you to his birthday, didn't he?" Aster smiled, despite or because of Jack's innocent confusion. "Pull up a rock, Frostbite."

Jack hopped up onto his staff instead, in an obscure, hard to follow twist and jump. His toes curled around the crook of his staff, and he wrapped his arms around his knees. "What'cha doing?" he asked.

"Sketching." Aster held up the sketchbook in question, and then set it aside. Jack made an inquisitive noise, and craned his neck as though trying to see, but Aster didn't oblige.

Some things were private. And not even what he owed to Jack could possibly get him to share.

"You draw a lot," Jack said. "So. Um. Slumber parties?"

"Question for ya first," Aster said. "Why come to me?"

The boy looked confused. "Why not you?"

Well. He didn't exactly have an answer to that. "Right. So what don't you get?"

Jack spread his hands. "All of it. I mean, I sort of understand, but... what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you're the adult. So to speak." Aster fiddled with his charcoal pencil. "Keep 'em from killing their selves?"

"Bunny!"

"Look. Kids do stupid stuff when in a group and hyped on sugar and lack of sleep. The house has stairs. An' even if they'll try to be quiet, they'll probably start a game of truth or dare sooner or later, which means they'll dare each other to jump off the stairs and run around like lunatics and try standing on their heads when none of 'em know how..." He paused for breath, and almost grimaced. Jack looked confused and curious, and was staring at Aster like a cat outside a mouse hole. Not hungry, exactly, but waiting for the twitchy squeaky toy to come out and play. "I was young, once. Had siblings. Friends."

"Maybe that's why I'm asking you," Jack said, and leaned back a touch. He no longer looked quite so intent, either; rather, he'd gone back to nervous and twitchy. His fingers plucked at the leather covering his knees, and his toes kept wiggling.

Aster didn't need to notice Jack's toes. Really.

It was easier to ignore Jack's toes when he focused on the fact that the boy wouldn't look at him. Oh, sure, Jack snuck quick peeks, just to make sure of where Aster was, but that wasn't _real_ looking.

Aster looked away and down. "Right. Well, I dunno. Just keep an eye on things. Fun, but safe fun."

"But what if it gets too warm?" Jack asked.

"You're having problems with heat?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but they like using me as an air conditioner."

It took a second to remember what the term 'air conditioner' meant. Pooka hadn't ever had that particular bit of technology, and humans hadn't had it long enough for him to take it for granted. "And that's a problem?" he asked.

"I," Jack said, and looked everywhere but Aster. He plucked faster at his pants. "Well. No? Yes? It's... weird. Touch. I don't... I don't..." He shrugged helplessly, and managed to meet Aster's gaze for all of three milliseconds before looking away.

"Bit overwhelming?" Aster offered, internally cringing. How many times had Jack lost out on such a simple need? Humans, more than Pooka, required physical contact. Companionship. They could survive without sight, or hearing, but touch was part of communication and _that_ , they could not live without. Really, after three hundred years, he was surprised Jack hadn't gone a little crazy for the lack.

Well. Aster nearly winced. Jack had been touched at least once that he knew of, but almost getting killed wasn't... healthy.

Pooka were similar, but their need for touch was... less. For a Pooka, it was scent, sight, that were most important. Aster blamed the Source of Light for his sanity, that and sleeping billions of years next to it. At least he'd started aging again, and he had friends. Maybe they weren't Pooka, but they were... there.

He remembered, barely in time, to breathe in through his mouth, not his nose. He could taste pheromones in the air, Jack's, but not strongly enough to pick through and decipher them. Nerves, he guessed. Probably fear, if he was being honest with himself.

That was why he didn't dare scent the air. He didn't want to smell Jack's fear.

Not when he was the cause.

"Yeah," Jack said, and it took a moment for Aster to remember what Jack was agreeing with. "A little," the boy continued, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, it's _nice_." He looked up, apparently to impress Aster with the sincerity of his words. "But, I don't know, it's... weird."

This time, Aster was the one to look away. "You'll get used to it," he offered. "If, ah, if you get overwhelmed, just... tell 'em so. That you need to step back a touch. They're good kids, they'll understand."

"Uh huh," Jack said, doubtfully, and then he hopped off the staff. "Thanks, Bunny. I'll just go now."

"Oy, how'd you get in?" Aster yelled after him, but he didn't get an answer. He wasn't sure he'd been expecting one.

* * *

Christmas parties for the Guardians didn't happen. Well. He wasn't sure what Jack did on the actual day in question, but North was busy delivering presents, Tooth held to Hindu traditions, and Sandy often had no idea of what day it was, so his schedule remained the same. The one time they'd asked Jack, his first Christmas as a Guardian, he'd gotten this bitter look in his eyes and nasty little smile - nasty because it'd been so sad and self deprecating, not because he'd wanted to hurt them - and asked who'd want to celebrate a holiday for family and friends with _him_ , anyways?

And Aster preferred to just avoid the whole bloody mess. For reasons that were actually pretty similar to Jack's, actually, only in Aster's case, he didn't have any family left and his friends were busy.

Besides, they had the New Year's party to make up for it. They'd explained it to Jack, that first year, and then had to explain that not only was he invited, if he tried ducking out they'd hunt him down and drag him to the party, for at least a couple of hours.

His expression, a shy mix of wonder and hope and the fear that something he'd wanted for so long might be snatched away from him... Aster did his best not to think about it, to remember, because it had brought a lump to his throat. Still did. Poor boy. They'd really bollocksed up with him, hadn't they?

Aster's only defense was how he'd avoided _everyone_ for several hundred thousand years _before_ Jack had been born. The other Guardians had only spent time with him when they'd forced him into it. So how and why should he have changed his habits towards other spirits if no one had _told_ him there was a youngster wandering around, lost and alone?

Besides, it was fairly clear now that he knew what'd happened that one Easter that he couldn't be trusted around Jack. Or anyone, but he had a feeling if he tried to pull a hermit now he'd get knocked out and wake up in North's infirmary.

So, yes, New Year's party. They gathered together, drifting to North's- who, quite frankly, had the most comfortable furniture and the best grub- where they'd exchange Christmas presents if they'd come up with any, and otherwise eat, drink, and be merry. The only requirements for the party were for everyone to tell at least one happy story, and for there to be an absolute taboo on Christmas carols and the like. From the afternoon of December twenty-fifth to about mid-January, North was, for the only time of year, Christmas'ed _out_. No songs, no eggnog- much to Sandy's disappointment- no Christmas trees or carols, no special cookies, no fruitcakes...

Aster made sure to always hum at least one Christmas carol all the way through where North could hear him, during the party. There wasn't much harm the old Russian could do with his fists, and weapons were verboten during the party.

He climbed up out of his tunnel, and the arctic wind cut through his fur as though he'd been shaved bald. Forgot his coat again. Stupid of him. The cold hurt, but... he let the hurt sink in deep, to his heart, as though the old grief could be numbed away.

Aster sighed, and watched as his breath plumed white and was snatched away by the wind. He'd always known he was a monster. He'd grown up with it, hadn't he? But he'd never... Jack was... he'd been innocent, was innocent, and Aster had hurt him.

He didn't think he'd ever hurt an innocent person before. He was fairly certain Laysh would have told him if he had. Claek certainly would have; the female hadn't liked Aster, not one bit. She'd have taken a great deal of pleasure in shattering his world like that.

"Bunny?"

He was too tired to jump, so he just turned to look instead. Jack hovered in midair, the wind swirling around him like a miniature cyclone, looking confused.

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing out here? It's..." Jack paused and looked around. "Cold," he said.

State the obvious much, Jack? Aster shoved down the bubble of irritation. "Got lost in thought," he said.

Jack nodded, and the wind dropped him. He landed on top of the snow. The same snow Aster had to wade through, because it was loose and powdery instead of packed hard enough to support his weight. Jack barely left footprints.

The boy raised his staff, and the wind stopped blowing against Aster. "Better?" he asked, eyeing the Pooka sidelong, his body tense and wary.

"Thanks," Aster said, and looked away. Jack's concern hurt like the cold.

Once at the door, one of the yeti still awake got Aster a blanket, and directed them to the usual room for this nonsense. Jack paced Aster, just out of arm's reach and constantly stealing little, sidelong glances to check where the Pooka was. He didn't walk along any railings, or float overhead, or even talk. It was eerie, as though the boy's spirit had broken.

Aster hoped not, but the hope tasted like ashes on his tongue. How could it be otherwise? Coming that close to death changed people.

And _he_ was responsible for Jack getting that close to death.

The two of them reached the sitting room, and Aster gestured Jack in first. The boy hesitated, probably wary of having Aster at his back, before going in. North's welcome was subdued, but Tooth more than made up for that in volume, and Sandy grabbed Jack with his dreamsand and hauled him up into a hug.

When Aster entered the room... Well, the only way North's greeting could get any more subdued was if he grunted instead of spoke, but Tooth certainly wasn't jubilant to see him. Sandy didn't do more than smile and wave. It hurt, just one more ache in his hearts.

Jack looked confused, of all things, at Aster's reception. And then determined. When Aster sat down on one side of an overstuffed loveseat, Jack sat down next to him. On the arm, with the full width of the couch cushion between them, but still. Beside him.

Jack was braver than he'd thought.

Tooth perched on what looked, for all the world, like a small chaise lounge without a back. North had made and given her the chair one New Years some four or five centuries back, something that wouldn't foul her wings or tail, something comfortable she could lounge in when reading her books and scrolls. It'd been meant to go to her Palace, but somehow or other no one had gotten around to moving it, so it'd stayed at North's.

Sandy hovered, as was his usual, on a cloud of dreamsand. His spot tonight was halfway between the window and the fireplace, angled so that a trick of the light reflecting off his 'hair' made it look like he had a halo. Streamers of sand spun and danced between his hands and around his fingers, never settling. And his eyes kept moving, gaze never resting in one spot; first he'd look at Aster, then Jack, then Tooth and North, out the window at the moon, a brief pause as he stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace, and then making the rounds again.

North took his usual spot, an old and battered easy chair, modified in recent years so that he could recline it if he wanted to. There was a permanent dip in the cushion just the right size for North's arse, showing how much time he spent sitting in the chair. It'd been reupholstered several times, so that there were many different materials, colors, and patterns. Aster had never sat in that chair, but he assumed it was comfortable.

Jack's usual spot was further away from the fire, either sprawled out on the rug in the most inconvenient spot ever- he seemed to take a quiet glee in making people step over or walk around him- or lying along the back of the bigger couch, an arm or leg dangling. He was currently much closer to the fire than usual. And... his expression was strangely intent, now, his gaze focused primarily on Aster.

Aster stared back, helplessly. And then Jack blinked, a slow close and open of his eyes, breaking the odd spell or contest, he didn't know what.

"So," Jack said, drawing the word out until it was all of three syllables long. "When are we getting the party started?"

"Ah!" North jumped in his seat like he'd been poked with a cattle prod. He looked over at Tooth. "Actually," he said, and then stalled. One hand gestured feebly as he visibly groped for words.

"Jack, you never told us what... what that weapon Pitch used on you did," Tooth said, taking over.

Aster tensed. Wasn't it obvious?

Jack's gaze flicked, briefly, back to Aster, before he turned and stared at Tooth. "No," he said. He was too still; unnaturally so, for him. "I didn't."

Tooth fluffed up her feathers and looked away first. Aster was watching Jack, mostly, so he saw the boy's eyes narrow and lips twitch as though to peel back and reveal his teeth- and not in a smile. But then Jack caught himself, and he settled back into a more comfortable looking pose, eyes no longer narrow and intent.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, and looked over at North, then Sandy. "Can't we just... it was bad, okay? And it hurt. And I don't..."

"We need to know," North said, quiet enough that even Aster had to strain to hear him. Sandy nodded agreement.

Jack actually hissed, his sigh forced between clenched teeth. "Fine. My worst memory. I don't want to talk about it."

Aster's stomach clenched. He'd known, deep in his primary heart, but- to have it confirmed _hurt_. He looked away, and stared out the window. The moon was out, but he didn't see Manny in the swollen, silver disk. The moon was just the moon tonight, it seemed. That was good. Maybe later he'd go for a walk, somewhere it was night time, and quiet, and he'd be alone.

Alone was... safer.

Sandy moved forward, his sand already spinning into the shapes he used to talk. Jack glared at him, head lowered enough that he stared through his bangs. " _No_ ," he said. "I don't want to talk about it. I- not _now_. Okay?"

After a moment, Sandy nodded and moved backwards. He glanced briefly towards Aster, frowning, before nodding and smiling again.

Jack relaxed on his perch as the others nodded as well. Then he turned to Aster. His eyes were in shadow, but the rich blue all but glowed despite- or perhaps, because- of that. Jack blinked in seeming slow motion, and then turned and aimed a gimlet eyed glare at North.

"Isn't this supposed to be a _party_?"

North huffed. "We wanted to take time for serious, is first we've seen you since you left."

Jack waved one hand in the air by his head, as though brushing away something unimportant. "Somebody get food and drink in here before I start whining. C'mon, guys! You're killing me!"

Aster figured no one saw his flinch. No one commented on it, anyways.

* * *

Food had been produced, and eaten. Drink had been made available, and drunk. Aster had managed a bowl of chicken soup, something he didn't normally indulge in. Jack alone had noticed _which_ soup he'd helped himself to; those blue eyes had been very wide and very confused. There'd be questions later, maybe. Not that Aster would mind explaining. He could eat meat. He looked like an earth rabbit, but he wasn't. He was a Pooka. Sure, he had buck teeth, but he also had tiny little fangs tucked away in his mouth, too.

And it was astonishing how effective buck teeth were for biting through flesh.

Not that he'd done that sort of thing or anything... well, except when his adoptive parents had made him help with the hunting, that is.

Aster had nibbled, after the soup, but hadn't felt up to actually eating. So he'd sipped his drink, and nibbled at carrot sticks and a salad, and watched everyone else relax and begin to laugh and smile. Really laugh and smile. Even turn to share their good humor with him.

After the meal came the presents, always. Even when they hadn't managed to come up with something for anyone, there were presents. So to speak. Stories, companionship, a case of something alcoholic that North had been keeping for a century for a special occasion, chocolates Aster was experimenting with and wanted to test out on his friends... Not every gift was a tangible one.

Of course, now that Jack was a part of the group, at least one of them got physical gifts every year. After that first year, Jack always brought them something he could claim was a present. He was always, clearly, uncomfortable unwrapping gift after gift while everyone else just sat and watched him.

North had tried telling him to think of it as his birthday, and Jack had retorted that he'd been born in late July, he just didn't associate _snow_ with _birthday_.

Aster smiled faintly at the memory, and eyed the pile of presents the yeti brought in with amusement. Jack, still sitting beside him, still on the couch arm, eyed the pile and groaned.

"Really?" he asked, and flopped backwards so he was dangling half off the couch. "You all suck. So much."

"Most people like getting presents," Tooth said. She grinned at the disgusted sound Jack made, and even more when he flipped her off.

"Yes, yes, but this year I have come up with presents for everyone," North said, and clapped his hands.

Jack lifted his head. "You're not kidding me?"

"нет. Is no joke. But," North said, grinning broadly. "You have most presents."

Jack groaned again, and this time flipped North off.

"What, you don't like prezzies?" Aster said. The weak joke threatened to fall flat, until Jack looked up again, and grunted.

"It's not that I don't like them," he admitted. "But c'mon. Do you really think it'd be at all possible for me to sit still and play on that Nintendo Wii thing?"

"Is glory of Wii," North said. He pointed at one of the presents, and then over at Tooth. The yeti picked the wrapped box up and took it over to her. "You are to move when using it."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, North."

Tooth opened her present then, providing the perfect distraction. She made a pleased sound, and lifted out a small fortune in gold and emerald jewelry. Aster wasn't a real judge of sparklies- Pooka, or at least his clan, hadn't been into that sort of thing too much- but he thought it looked alright. As much Indian in style as Russian, with a few Tooth Fairy details worked in.

"This is beautiful," Tooth whispered, and carefully packed everything away. Everything, apparently, included a diadem, a neck-thing that wasn't a necklace and wasn't a choker, several... belts, probably, and a handful of bracelets and arm bands.

North beamed, and then selected another box, and pointed at Jack.

Jack sat up, accepted the box, and then tore the wrapping paper off in three economical yanks.

And then, either because he actually found it amusing or just to annoy North, spent the next five minutes wadding the ripped paper up into three balls, and trying to juggle with them.

"Jack, present is _in_ box," North rumbled.

"That's not very imaginative, is it?" Jack tossed one of the paper balls at North, and pouted when it didn't cross even half of the distance. North glowered and pointed at the box again. Jack threw the other two paper balls, and turned his attention to the box.

"I..." Jack lifted up a... thing made out of... Aster had no idea, and apparently neither did Jack. "What is this?"

"Is part of a tent," North said, and heaved himself up out of the chair. He pulled the rest of it out, and showed Jack how the different parts went together. The end result, put up in the middle of the room, was just barely big enough for one person Jack's size, and only if he squirmed in on his stomach and didn't try to sit up.

"Okay," Jack said, and opened the tent flap. He tilted his head to the side, and stared into the shallow depths of the tent. "It's a tent. Why do I have a tent?"

North huffed, and looked up at the ceiling. "Because you complain about being rained on in sleep?" He shook his head. "Is small enough for you to carry around, yes? Very light."

Jack got to his feet, and then circled the small tent. He rubbed one hand against his chin, as though stroking a beard he didn't have, and then crawled into the tent. The sides bulged a touch, as Jack wiggled around in there, and then he popped his head out through the front.

"Okay. I'll take it." Jack crawled back out, and fumbled in his sweater pocket for a small package he'd wrapped in old newspaper and duct tape. "Think this'll be enough to pay for it?"

North took the present and rolled his eyes. "Yes, most certainly."

"Awesome." Jack returned to the couch arm, and eyed the tent with clear possessive pride. "It's almost like a hunting blind."

Sandy choked on his sip of eggnog.

The next round of gifts was from Jack to North, Tooth, and Sandy. Jack never gave them anything fancy; North got a tree topper one year, and another year a small figurine that was plastic made to look like crystal. Tooth had gotten a series of handmade postcards Jack had found in a small store, just because the art was good and the subject involved fairies. Sandy had gotten a child's toy once, from one of the myriad of fast food restaurants that offered such things.

Mainly, they were things Jack figured would make his friends smile.

Aster didn't fail to notice that this year, he wasn't getting a present. But what could he have possibly expected? It was enough, more than enough, that Jack wasn't running away screaming.

North unwrapped a music CD. None of the songs involved Christmas, winter, gift giving, or Santa- except for Eartha Kitt's rendition of Santa Claus. North blushed when he noticed that, but he grinned too.

"Is only version I can stand," he admitted. "She has good voice."

Tooth got a wall sign that read "well behaved women rarely make history". She immediately vowed to hang it on a wall in her Palace, where she'd see it every day.

Sandy got a fist-sized plastic figurine of a laughing Buddha. He seemed absolutely delighted with it, and then looked up at Jack with a question mark overhead.

"Well, you mentioned, in Tibet..." Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Good?"

Sandy nodded hard enough bits of his hair flaked off.

"And, uh," Jack said, and pointed at a box on the pile of gifts. "Phil, could you... thanks."

The yeti passed the box over to Jack, who turned and held it out to Aster. "Here," he said. "It, um... here."

Aster's hands trembled, once, when he reached out for the box. It was wrapped, as Jack's gifts always were, with old newspaper and duct tape. Something prompted him to be careful when clawing the paper off.

The box was... well. Mostly it had been made with cherry wood. It was just big enough to cover Aster's lap, and the wood was as smooth as fine silk under the soft pads of his fingers, just a little slick from the varnish. The corners had been joined expertly, and someone- Jack?- had managed to match the grain up so perfectly, there didn't seem to have been a cut at all.

As if that wasn't enough, the sides and lid had a bit of inlay, curling lines that made patterns much like Aster's own markings. Ebony wood, he thought, and traced one curling, black vine over the lid.

"Open it," Jack urged.

Aster glanced up at him, and then back down to the box. The lid swung up on near invisible hinges, and revealed an artist's treasure trove.

Paint brushes. Handmade, he knew that at a glance. He picked up one, and marveled. He always had a bit of trouble with brushes he hadn't made himself; anything meant for human hands tended to be a bit thin for his fingers, and too easy to snap if he got distracted. But these were perfect. Made out of hardwood, if he was any guess, in a rainbow of different colors. There were even purple handles, and the color was natural, he'd swear all the hairs of his tail on it.

"The different handles, I mean, there's different bristle types," Jack said, stammering a little. "For, um, for water colors, and oils, and... um. Do you, ah, I mean. It's okay, right? To, ah... to give you... Bunny?"

"Yeah?" he asked, throat tight. Jack had made him paint brushes, and a box to keep them in. "Yeah, mate?"

"Do you like them? It?" Jack ducked his head, until he was staring at Aster from under his bangs.

"Yeah." His tongue failed him. Aster could only hold one of the brushes to his chest and stare wordlessly at Jack, primary heart lodged somewhere in his throat and eyes burning. He had no idea why that was, it wasn't as though Pooka could shed tears the way humans could.

And he felt a bit ashamed of the gift he'd gotten Jack. It wasn't much. Hardly anything, really. More of a joke, to be honest, and the thought of Jack opening Aster's gift and seeing _that_ made the bottom drop out of his stomach.

The sun catcher had seemed like a good idea, up to now. He'd thought it might start... not that there was any way to make up for what he'd done, but it'd seemed like a good gesture to make. It wasn't winter themed, unless you considered blue a winter color. The design was more abstract than anything, circles and lines that could be seen as a stylized star, or a snowflake, or a sun in glory... And if he was the only one who knew that it was the Pookan symbol for 'hope', well, that didn't change what it was, did it?

Aster cringed inwardly when Jack opened his gift. A sun catcher. Why'd he ever think that was a good idea?

Jack lifted the glass and lead construct out of the bed of cotton batting, and stared at it. His eyes were very wide. "Bunny, did you make this yourself?"

"Didja make these?" he asked, and tapped his gift.

Jack shrugged and grinned. "Yeah."

"Same goes," he said, and nodded at his paltry offering.

Jack looked back down at the sun catcher, and at least he didn't look disappointed. His eyes were glowing, mouth set in an emotion Aster couldn't decipher.

"I like it," Jack said, and ran a gentle finger along the outside edge of the sun catcher. "I like it a lot. Thanks, Bunny."

Aster cleared his throat and looked away. "Yeah, well. You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting another chapter because Ghosty's almost over, and Assassins is almost over, and I am feeling happy and smiling and everything is good today. Have a chapter.


	6. Chapter Five - See Red

The noise was subtle, but out of place. However low he'd fallen, he noticed it. And tempting as it was to ignore it, turn over and turn his back and stay in his funk... This was his Warren. There shouldn't be any out of place noises. And if there were, it was his duty to investigate.

Aster heaved himself up out of the nest, joints popping at the sudden movement. Instinct demanded he stretch; he did, slowly, the way he'd been taught so as not to strain anything. His muscles protested, and then relaxed as blood began to flow properly through his veins.

It was annoying how his body felt good, while the rest of him was determined to feel rotten. Aster grumbled under his breath, and padded across the small bedroom on all fours. He didn't feel civilized enough to walk on his hind legs, at least not in the privacy of his own home. Quite possibly not even in public.

He'd retreated to his nest and the sanctuary of- if not sleep- an unthinking state, after the New Year's party. It had been at least partially driven by his guilt over Jack's gift; he'd gotten such a wonderful, thought-out present, one that had clearly taken a lot of time and effort to make, and he just _knew_ the only reason he'd been given it was because it had been finished before the party. There was no way Jack could have whipped something like that up in the few days between Pitch's attack and the party. It also was quite impossible for Jack to have wanted to give a _monster_ such a gift, but...

But he had.

And Aster had repaid the favor with a paltry _sun catcher_ , of all the brain addled things.

He growled under his breath, and followed the faint noises towards the kitchen. Sloshing sounds... pottery clinking together? The faintest sound of someone breathing, just barely audible, even for his ears.

What the heck was going on?

Aster had designed his home's layout on somewhat paranoid lines. It was possible to look in on any of the rooms from the doorway, and see just about anything and everything that was going on inside the room. It was equally difficult for anyone in the room to see whoever was standing in the doorway, and that had been right tricky to accomplish.

All of which meant that when Aster reached the kitchen doorway and looked in, he saw Jack long before Jack saw him.

Jack was washing dishes.

Now the odd sounds were explained. The clinking of pottery- plates and bowls knocking gently against each other as Jack washed them off. The sloshing was the water. The breathing, quite obviously, was Jack. The sounds were so quiet that even here Aster was having trouble telling the individual noises apart.

How had Jack gotten into the Warren... and more importantly, _why_?

"Jack?"

The winter spirit paused, and Aster noted how Jack's shoulders and back tensed in reaction. He didn't start, though. Rather, he looked over at the doorway, squinted, tilted his head, and then grinned.

"Bunny! You live!"

Aster moved into the kitchen, careful to give Jack space. No need to cut off Jack's avenues of escape; the door outside, or the windows, none of which had any glazing. Those avenues were what was keeping Jack feeling safe enough to be in an enclosed room, alone, with Aster. The winter spirit's body language told him that much. Tense muscles, accelerated respiration, keeping Aster in view if only from the corner of one eye or the other... Jack was nervous, and Aster was causing it.

"What's all this?" he asked. His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and equal lack of water, over the past few days.

He needed a drink.

"I came to check on you," Jack said. He turned and fumbled with something in the drying tray. After a moment, Aster realized it was a glass. Jack reached into the little cold box, which was actually set into the floor to better keep things cool, and pulled out a pitcher of diluted honey-wine. He poured half a glass, replaced the pitcher, and then offered the glass to Aster. "You sound like you need this."

"Y'know, most folks wouldn't think alcohol proper first thing in the morning. Or on an empty stomach," he added, and sipped carefully. The wine was sweet, and soothed his sore throat.

"Most folks didn't grow up where small beer was safer to drink than the local water. Or, well, cider was more common, but it also got you drunker faster than the beer." Jack shrugged, and went back to washing dishes.

Aster settled down against the far wall, drinking slowly. Considering it'd been several days since he'd last put anything in his stomach, the wine would take effect far faster than normal. A single glass would be enough to get him tipsy. Worse if he gulped it down.

"Why?" he asked, and blinked. He'd said that aloud? He hadn't intended to.

The wine was gone. He'd have to switch to water, or juice. Once Jack moved away from the sink, and the cold box. He wouldn't be comfortable with Aster right close.

"Want water, now?" Jack asked, and held one hand out for the glass. Water, and a few soap suds, clung to the back of his hand and slid towards his wrist. Aster's attention was caught, for a long second, by that hand and wrist. The fingers were long and delicate, the palm adult-large, the wrist delicate, the bones showing through in a way that made him itch to trace the just visible bones.

With his tongue.

He shivered, and handed the empty glass over. With his tongue? The wine must have been stronger than he'd thought, if his mind was already turning down improper avenues.

He'd thought about Jack that way before, of course. He'd thought about just about everyone that way, imagining what it'd be like to take North to bed, or Tooth- not Sandy, Aster's imagination wasn't quite _that_ good- and certainly not Pitch. But even the Groundhog had featured in late-night fantasies, once or twice, though only _before_ Aster had actually gotten to know the foul-mouthed rodent.

Usually such lines of thought didn't occur to him until he was alone and in his nest. It'd hardly be polite to just start a mental wank while in any kind of company, and he didn't wear clothing anymore. There wasn't any way to hid his body's reactions to such thoughts.

So he didn't think about it. At all. Except in the privacy of his nest.

This was not the privacy of his nest, and Jack looked amused.

"Still not awake?" he said, and held the glass of water a little closer.

"No." Aster took the glass, and drained it in three swallows. The water was, as he really should have expected, ice cold. Jack grinned wider as Aster hissed and clutched the back of his head, near the base of his neck.

"Ice cream headache?"

Aster glowered at the demon that looked like a harmless boy, and chittered angrily. "Wanker." He almost flinched, once he realized what he'd said, but he suppressed the reaction.

"Only sometimes." Jack gestured for the glass again, and refilled it. This time Aster sipped carefully at the water instead of gulping it down, and watched the boy return to the dishes.

"Why're you cleaning up?" Aster asked, once the quiet had dragged on too long. Jack was _never_ quiet. He filled the air around him with a running monologue, if left to himself; if Aster hadn't secretly taken a small measure of comfort in the noise, he would have found it annoying. Instead, well... it was nice, listening to Jack share every thought that filled his pretty little head.

"Because you'll give yourself food poisoning if I don't?" Jack pulled out the drain plug, and wiped his hands dry on the front of his sweater. "Do you have a cold, Bunny?"

A cold? No. Why would Jack think that?

"It's just," Jack said, and blushed faintly lavender. "You, ah, you haven't been around, and your garden's got weeds, of all things, and the dishes are... y'know, they were kinda bad, and, um." He made a feeble gesture with his hands. "You know?"

Aster lowered the glass without taking his intended sip. "Did you just stutter?" he asked. Or were his ears acting up?

Jack blushed harder. "Maybe?"

Crikey. He was making Jack stutter. Why the hell had the boy come 'round when he was this frightened of Aster?

Jack didn't show his fear. Too long on his own, Aster supposed, having to bluff everyone remotely unfriendly. But it was obvious, now, that he was nervous. Which meant, Jack being the kind of person who'd bluff even if he didn't have any cards at all, he had to be flat out terrified.

Aster set the glass down. Suddenly he wasn't feeling very thirsty after all.

"The dishes are always like that," he said, giving only half of his attention to the conversation. "I wash what I need."

"That," Jack said, and paused. "You," he said, and paused again. Then he just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"You're an idiot," Jack said, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. "And you must have an immune system of steel."

Aster shook his head. "Any other reason you swung 'round?" he asked. "I doubt it was to do dishes."

"Well, since I was here, and they were here, and kinda growing strange mold cultures..." Jack pointed a finger at Aster's nose. "Bunny, you do realize letting sentient slime take up residence in your kitchen is a bad thing, right?"

Aster stood up, and stretched again. When he next looked at the boy, Jack had retreated a step, the better to catch hold of the counter edge. Surely he wasn't intimidated? Aster looked away.

"Get to the point, Jack," he said.

"Yeah, I think you have a cold or the flu or something. You should go back to bed."

"Jack!"

"Fine, fine." Jack patted the air in what was supposed to be a soothing motion. "Since you insist, oh cranky one. I came to see if you have any glow in the dark paint. Preferably in red and green."

Aster ran the question through his mind several times. He squinted at Jack in thought. Then up at the ceiling. Back at Jack, who was looking suspiciously innocent and good-natured. And then he reached up and massaged his forehead with one hand.

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise," Aster repeated, deadpan.

"A good one."

"Mm. A good surprise." Yes, that was a headache brewing. "Frostbite?"

Jack grinned, and bounced on his toes. "It's a surprise for North," he said.

Oh, well, that made all the difference now, didn't it? "I don't want to see any of this end up splashed about my Warren," he said, and gestured to the door outside. "And I don't want to know what you're plotting."

"You don't?" Jack caught up his staff from where he'd leant it against the kitchen table, and gestured Aster towards the door. Well, he probably didn't want the Pooka at his back. Understandable.

"Plausible deniability," Aster said dryly.

"Oooh, right." Jack then hopped out through the kitchen window.

Aster looked from the window, to the door, and then over at Jack.

"It's more fun this way," Jack said. He yoked the staff over his shoulders. "Paint?"

Aster didn't sigh, but he wanted to.

* * *

One of his sentinel eggs nudged him with a foot, shifting his attention from the garden to the egg, and from there, to the sky.

The Aurora flickered across the sky, with the particular combination of colors and magic that meant North had set off the beacon again.

There was only one reason for that. Pitch. Another confrontation, and about time. Aster flexed his fingers, and felt his rage stir at the back of his mind. If not for Pitch using that new weapon on Jack, he'd never have known what he'd done. Not that he preferred ignorance over knowledge, most times, but Jack hadn't been afraid of him before that. He was sure of it, now. The stuttering, the inability to look Aster in the eye, the near constant twitching had all happened _after_ Pitch's attack, not before.

Pitch had destroyed one of the best friendships Aster'd ever had, ravaged Aster's confidence in himself, and set his emotions into a turmoil, and all in one fell swoop.

A little payback was desired.

No. He had to be honest with himself, if no one else. A little payback was _needed_.

Aster stretched first, and then stood up. He had a few special little tricks to pick up from his burrow, and then he'd answer North's call.

It felt like no time at all before he was jumping up into the snow at the North Pole. Anger kept him warm, even though he'd forgotten his coat yet again. His bandolier felt heavier than normal, but that could have simply been the extra weapons he'd tucked away in the pouches. He had a few throwing knives strapped to his wrists, mostly hidden by his arm guards. He had some nasty black eggs alongside his grenades.

Despite the weaponry, Aster already knew that he'd forego all of it in favor of punching Pitch in the face. At least one or two dozen times.

He was the last to arrive. Everyone looked grim, except Jack; the boy smiled faintly at Aster, and moved to stand close to him. It was a touching gesture, the more so considering how out of control his emotions currently were.

Aster nodded to Jack, and then raised his eyebrows. "So," he said, and stared at North. "Pitch?"

"Pitch," North agreed. He caressed the hilts of his twin sabers. "Come. I have new toy for finding Nightmare King."

"But you know where he is, right?" Jack asked, following after North.

Oh, great. They were taking the sled again, weren't they?

"General area. Outside Los Angles, yes?"

"Angeles," Jack corrected. "Los Angeles. L.A., if you'd prefer."

Tooth shook her head. "That place- do you have any idea how many cavities people get, there? Aren't they that place with all the moving pictures? You'd think they'd take better care of their teeth."

"Hollywood?" Jack said. Sandy raised his eyebrows, and flashed a- what the hell did a roaring lion's head mean? "Yeah, that place," Jack agreed. "You know, I'm not sure. Hollywood is L.A.? Uh..."

"Discuss in sleigh," North suggested, and waved them at the object in question. The reindeer were in the final process of being hitched up. The yeti were opening the storm doors. Everyone else was climbing into the sleigh; only North and Aster left to get on.

"Will you insist on tunnels?" North asked, just a touch snide.

Aster glared at him, and then climbed onto the sleigh. The others gave him odd looks, but he ignored them.

His control was worse than he'd realized. He didn't actually remember the sleigh ride. He remembered getting in the sleigh. He remembered clenching his hands tight on the edge of the seat, to hold himself on. He remembered getting out of the sleigh.

And nothing in between.

What did it _matter_? He could worry about his control later. Right now, finding Pitch and beating that smarmy arsehole to death was more important.

"Bunny?" Tooth whispered. He turned and stared at her. "You're growling."

Was he? He pressed two fingers to his throat. So he was. "And?" he rasped, hardly able to recognize his own voice. "What of it?"

She flinched back. North wrapped an arm about her shoulders, and frowned at him.

Sandy gave him a warning look, with far too much understanding mixed in.

Jack... touched him, ever so gently, on the bicep. It caught Aster's attention and held it, as little else would have.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and stared up into Aster's eyes. Jack looked so worried. For him! For an animalistic monster, a beast that'd hurt him so terribly...

"I'm fine," Aster said, voice a little less... feral. "I just. We should find Pitch soon. That's all."

"Okay," Jack said. He stepped back, and lifted his staff. "Let's go hunting."

"Why go hunting at all?"

His precious calm shattered with the sound of _that voice_. Aster roared a challenge, a true challenge, Pooka Warrior to unwelcome-and-soon-to-die intruder. The red began to creep in, coloring everything until his world seemed drenched in blood.

Pitch laughed, but remained unseen. "Oh, trying to do my job, rabbit? Not bad. Not bad at all, I must say. You've _quite_ worried your allies."

Aster subsided to low growls, lips peeled back to reveal his less-than-threatening buck teeth. Pitch was right, he saw, when he glanced back over his shoulder. Tooth, Sandy, and North were gathered together in a tight group, and Tooth was watching _him_ instead of keeping an eye out for Pitch. Only Sandy had turned all his attention to their opponent, wherever he was.

Jack... Jack was just standing there, staring at Aster. His eyes weren't focusing and his breathing had sped up.

Damn it. They didn't have _time_ for Jack to suffer a flashback.

Shame curled in his gut, switching between hot and cold with mind boggling speed. "Jack?" he asked, voice far too rough for good manners. "Jack, c'mon mate, snap-"

The shadows rose up, like a cresting wave.

North and Tooth managed inarticulate cries of surprise and challenge, weak things powered by mere human lungs. Sandy shone brighter than normal, his own version of a shout.

Jack... hissed. Like an enraged cat.

And then he lashed out with his ice.

The shadows actually _froze_ , frozen water and spilt ink twisting into sculptures created by the deranged. But it was in only one spot, and Jack had to focus all of his attention and magic in one spot at a time. It left him vulnerable to attacks from behind.

Aster moved between Jack and one such attack, lashing out with an old knife, a special moonblade he'd kept tucked away in his own home, instead of letting it go to North's weapon's vault. The shadows flinched back from the enchanted knife, and didn't try a second time.

At least, not from that direction.

Aster only had the one moonblade and the shadows came from every direction. Jack guarded his back, but that left three other directions for the shadows to rush. He held them off only with speed and sheer determination.

He couldn't fail. Not just because he'd shame the memories of his teachers, all of them, but because if he failed, Jack would... Pitch would get the boy. And that... no.

Aster would _die_ first.

They fought for what felt like eternity. The tiny knife, blade barely the length of his hand, felt heavier than he could lift. He was gasping for breath, unable to get enough oxygen into his lungs. His hearts hammered like drums in a metal band, full speed and full strength and no decorum at all.

He had no idea where Tooth, Sandy, and North were, or how they were faring. He was barely aware of where he and Jack had gotten too. And the shadows seemed endless, pressing in harder and harder despite their return attacks.

Numbers always won, in the end.

Aster didn't close his eyes, but he wanted to. There would be only one ending to this fight. When it came... he wouldn't let Pitch take Jack. Not alive.

If he was lucky, there'd be enough time to make two cuts; Jack, and himself. If not... at least Jack would not suffer.

A sound rose up over the battlefield. It started out quiet, barely louder than Aster's grunts and huffs of breath. But then it strengthened, grew, and wove its way through the fighting. The shadows began to hesitate. Aster blinked, hard and fast, and shook his head during a lull.

"Jack?" He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. "Are you _laughing_?"

"Yes," Jack admitted, sounding... gleeful. "Can't you feel it, Bunny? He's desperate. Shoving fear down our throats like we can't toss it back in his face!"

Fear... or despair. Aster growled and renewed his attack on the shadows. His plans just seconds before, to slit Jack's throat before Pitch got his hands on him... stupid, foolish, despairing _nonsense_. Unworthy of the Guardian of Hope! Unworthy of Jack!

Jack laughed again, bright and clear.

The shadows drew back, all at once. Aster looked around, and then dragged Jack over to their friends. Tooth was bleeding from a cut over one eye, but it was obvious her blood was up and she was ready for more. North looked like he always did in a fight, as though he were having the time of his life and wanted it to go on forever.

Sandy was _grinning_.

Aster grinned back, and kept part of his attention on Jack. The winter spirit was bruised, and had a split lip that bled sluggishly, but was undaunted. And his steady chuckling seemed to have almost the same effect as his special snowflakes. The sound helped lift Aster's spirits. Maybe the others felt fear pushed on them, but he felt despair.

Now, though, he could tell it was coming from _outside_. Only with Jack's good cheer wrapped around his primary heart, though.

"New trick, Frostbite?" he asked, and spun the moonblade once in his hand, just to see it glitter.

"You like it?" Jack paused in his chuckling, and grinned at Aster. "Laughter's contagious."

So it was.

"Good on ya, Frostbite," he muttered, and looked around. The shadows were gone as if they'd never been, but Pitch still wasn't visible.

"Aw, Pitch isn't going to show himself," Jack said. He didn't relax quite so far as to yoke his staff over his shoulders, but he did lean forward, braced against the old wood. "He's a coward. Remember?"

Tooth turned to stare at Jack. "Be careful," she breathed.

"Why?" Jack shivered, and Aster pressed to the side, so there was the scant contact of fur to sweater in comfort. "He's a coward. He hides and hides and never comes out to face us."

"Indeed not?" Pitch asked, and stepped forward almost directly in front of Jack. He was grinning, yellowed teeth gleaming in the starlight. "Why, I think I've been insulted." He turned to- to...

The Fearling, a massive, hulking monster with no set form, growled. Its yellow eyes were pointed at Jack, no matter how many eyes it had at one time.

Jack sucked in a breath, and began to shake harder. Pitch noticed; how could he not? He grinned even more, and patted the Fearling on the... side.

"Recognize this?" he asked, and chuckled. "Cliché as it is, I've always liked the name Spot. Do you want to play with my pet, anyone? Anyone at all? Any... ah, yes, thank you Jack, for volunteering..."

The Fearling snarled, and lunged forwards.

Jack screamed.

And Aster lost it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday and I can post a chapter if I want to.


	7. Chapter Six - Realizations

Aster floated in a haze of comfortable exhaustion. His muscles ached, the way they always did after a good workout. He was curled up with... someone, probably one of his den-mates, he wasn't all that comfortable sleeping next to anyone else but the pups. At some point he'd wake up enough for all sorts of nagging little concerns to start poking, but for the moment...

He sighed, utterly content, and nuzzled against his sleeping partner with a contented hum.

This was an odd sleeping position, though. Aster grunted, as he did start waking up. A very odd position. He was sitting up, of all things, leaning sideways against... a wall or a tree or...? Something solid, anyways. And he was curled around his sleeping partner, completely around. None of the pups were that small anymore. Even Aldsh, baby of the pack, was almost Aster's height, and three-quarters of the way to Aster's weight.

And the _noise_! He grumbled a bit, and flattened his ears down against his head, which only helped a little.

Oh, hellfires, this wasn't- he wasn't curled up with Aldsh or any of the other pups, was he? No, he... he'd joined the army?

Hopefully he'd snatched up a good natured civilian, instead of one of his shield-brothers. The one might forgive him. The other never would. Especially not a shield-brother small enough to be cuddled like this...

Aster groaned, and began to uncurl, vertebrae popping as he went. And other things, too.

No one was really meant to have three sets of shoulders. Even the Pooka Aquilae made do with only two... or something, he wasn't too clear on exactly how the Aquilae had ended up with four legs and two wings...

His extra four arms were curled loosely around his unintentional sleep partner, all the crushing strength in his body devoted to cradling whoever the poor sucker was like a precious crystal. Like, he thought wryly, waking up the rest of the way, he'd seen Laysh cradle Claek, actually.

His extra shoulders popped again, cracked, and then - Aster started cussing under his breath, never mind manners - began to retract back into his body as his natural shape asserted itself. He was never quite sure how his shapeshifting worked, exactly; he was a touch abnormal, even for other Pooka Leporid. Once his arms finished retracting, their mass redistributed throughout his body, he risked opening his eyes.

For a good, long minute he absolutely did not recognize the trio staring at him. He had no clue who they were, and embarrassingly enough he wasn't even sure what gender to apply to them.

And then memory smacked into him like a freight train, and he yelped and winced away from the fearful, pitying looks. "Don't _look_ at me like that!"

Aster clenched his eyes shut, fingers flexing against damp cotton. Then he looked again, at the trio. Tooth, North, Sandy.

No Jack.

"Where's Jack?" he whispered.

His armful... giggled.

Aster looked down, and his eyes became impossibly wide. "Jack?"

The winter spirit, curled up on Aster's lap, the Pooka's arms wrapped around him - and no doubt, it'd been six arms holding Jack close, just minutes before. He looked tired, fear turned his eyes dark, and he was damp for some reason, Aster had no idea, they were in _California_ and trees had been catching on _fire_ because of the heat lately...

But he was alright. Whole, in one piece, no more injured than a few bumps and bruises and that split lip. Aster pressed a finger to Jack's mouth before he realized it, and shivered at the feeling of chill breath whispering over the pad of his finger.

"Are you alright?"

Jack smiled; Aster _felt_ the curve of his lips. "Yeah," he said, and shifted so he could - lean his head against Aster's chest? Touch the Pooka more, after... after...

Aster shuddered, this time with revulsion. He'd had six arms, he knew what that meant. _No one_ , not even his adopted pack, ever wanted to be near him when he was like _that_. When he'd... lost control, and the monster inside slipped its chains, and went on a destructive spree fit to level entire villages to the ground. All anyone had ever done was keep out of his way. Even the Guardians knew better than to get close. And Jack...

He'd come to with Jack cradled in his arms. And now Jack was pressing up against him, seemingly content with the physical contact, even after...

Aster groaned and rubbed his forehead. He had a headache.

* * *

He made it all the way to his usual spot, limping but under his own power. He collapsed onto the couch, and just sat there for a moment, breathing heavily.

Once he'd caught his breath, he managed to sit properly on the couch, leaning just a bit to the side so the arm could take some of his weight. Comfortable lassitude and gentle exhaustion had turned into so many aches and pains he wasn't sure where one bruise stopped and another began. As for exhaustion... he'd gone right past exhaustion into being stunned stupid from it, barely able to walk in a straight line... though that hadn't been helped by the bone bruise he'd found on his shin.

Jack settled down next to him, close enough that Aster could feel Jack breathing. He'd done the same in the sleigh, only then he'd wrapped an arm around Aster's back, because the positioning and their respective heights wasn't right for an arm over the shoulders...

He shook his head. Very tired. Kept getting lost in his own head.

North sat down in his chair, and Tooth curled up on the couch nearest him. Sandy floated by the fire.

If not for the ache in his back and sides, and everywhere else, and Jack pressing up against him, it might've been just a normal meeting.

Or not.

Aster frowned at Jack, who just pressed closer against him, and then looked up at the other three. The _sane_ three, he was starting to think. He wasn't sane, he'd accepted that fate a long time ago. And Jack... well, he'd _thought_ the winter spirit had his head on straight, but it was becoming clear that Jack had the common sense and self-preservation of a _sick radish_.

"What happened?" he asked.

Tooth blinked, and swallowed. "Well," she said, and looked down at her hands. "Well. The fearling showed up. And Jack screamed."

"I've met fearlings." Jack huddled back against the couch cushions, and wrapped one hand as far around Aster's elbow as he could get his fingers. "It wasn't... fun."

No. No, it wouldn't be. Aster risked everything, and stroked a hand over Jack's hair. The boy pressed silently into the contact, eyes mostly closed and what was left of his gaze directed at the floor.

"When?" North asked. Sandy leaned forward, a question mark echoing North's word.

"Easter of '68." Jack looked up at Bunny, and smiled faintly. "Compared to them, you're cute."

Aster swallowed, and stroked Jack's hair again. Poor boy. The new puzzle piece fit into the others he had with only a bit of turning to find the best fit. Jack must have encountered the fearling - or fearlings, plural - and created a blizzard in his panic. He might have even gotten a few of those scars from the fearlings. And then he'd managed to run away, only to encounter Aster at his most feral.

Being better than fearlings wasn't the best compliment he'd ever gotten, but he'd take it.

Sandy's eyes widened, and then his expression turned calculating. He stared at Aster, and then at Jack pressed up against the Pooka's side, and nodded once, as though to himself. The smile he turned then on Aster was innocence personified, and absolutely untrustworthy.

"Oh, Jack..." Tooth breathed. "Is that where...?"

Jack nodded, and somehow wiggled beneath Aster's arm. Aster was too bemused to stop him, or insist he move away afterwards.

"So, after the fearling showed up," Jack said. He peered up at Aster, seemingly secure in his chosen spot. "I screamed, you freaked out, and then _Pitch_ freaked out. It was beautiful!"

"He, ah..." Aster looked over at North. Perhaps the old Russian would have an explanation. Certainly, everyone else was only giving him bits and pieces of information, but he hadn't figured out how it went together yet.

"Indeed," North said, sounding amused. And distracted, if the way he stared at Jack was any indication. "The fearling closed to battle with you, but you were..." He shrugged. "I would have said it was the influence of chocolate, but I know you hadn't eaten any...?"

"Cooking," he improvised. "Had a bit of an accident when you set off the aurora."

"That explains it. Delayed reaction." North lost a bit of skepticism, but continued to watch Jack. "So. Six-armed and enraged. Not what anyone sane would want to face."

Sandy flashed a few images that boiled down to _'fearlings aren't sane'_. Too right, that.

Tooth cleared her throat. "The fearling is gone."

"Gone?" he asked.

" _Gone_ ," she confirmed. "Very, very gone. And not coming back."

Aster shuddered. He knew what that meant. He must have torn the fearling to pieces...

El-Ahrairah allow he hadn't _eaten_ any of it.

"And Pitch?" he asked, even as he looked down at the floor.

"Ran away screaming." Jack rested one hand on Aster's thigh, and smiled up at him. "After spluttering a lot while his fearling died. Which was amazing to watch. Really cathartic. What're the chances we can go fearling hunting later?"

Aster spluttered. Jack - that boy - he...

"Does anything keep you down?" he wondered, and then winced. That hadn't come out right...

"My center is Joy," the boy pointed out. "Fun. Mischief, and good-natured trickery, and laughter. So, to answer your question..." He made a show of thinking about it. "You know what? No, I don't think so." He paused, and added, "Unless you're talking lead weights, because I'm a physical wimp."

"You..." Aster shook his head, and shifted so his arm over Jack's shoulder was holding him close, not just deadweight. "You're impossible."

"Ah, you love me for it."

Aster's secondary hearts stuttered, quite literally.

There were worse times to have emotional revelations. He just couldn't think of any.

Aster shoved it all aside, but couldn't help the faint shaking. Jack looked worried, but at the same time, unsurprised. Perhaps he thought it was only reaction to what had happened?

"So," he said, and cleared his throat. "How'd I end up cuddling Frostbite here?"

Sandy giggled silently, and illustrated the scene. He took some liberties, obviously; in no way would Jack _walk up_ to a six-armed, mindless Aster, let alone _hug him_. However, considering the epiphany Aster had just had, it was entirely believable that his mindless self would snatch Jack up and then threaten anyone who tried to take the boy away.

Pooka instincts were dangerous, but even the mindless beast could recognize a _mate_. And cubs. That was how the Pooka had survived long enough to evolve working brains, after all. When Aster was like that, he was nothing but the beast, driven by instinct. And instinct had told him that his mate was nearby, it seemed. Instinct would have also told him said mate was still half-grown, not yet strong enough to drive away the not-pack others hovering over him...

Aster sighed, and rubbed his face with one hand. "I need a drink," he mumbled into his palm.

"Only one," North said. Aster looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I need drink as well," the Russian admitted. "A real drink, with vodka." The expression he turned to Aster was pure challenge.

"A single glass won't hurt," he allowed. It'd definitely take the edge off. "Food with it, though."

North nodded, and made the arrangements with one of the ever-present yeti. Tooth and Sandy drifted off to the side, so as to work. Tooth's fairies flit in and out of the window; Aster gave himself a mental tap upside the back of the head, for not noticing when they'd first appeared, and then let it go.

"Bunny?"

He looked down at Jack. "Yeah, mate?" Mate. He suppressed another shiver, but couldn't do anything about the way his primary heart lodged itself in his throat.

Jack opened his mouth, and then looked away without talking. Aster waited, too tired for impatience. Jack would tell him when he was ready, and not before.

"Think North would give me a little vodka? Not straight," he said quickly. "It's just, I don't... it was good seeing the fearling go squish, it really was, I just..." He shivered, and actually pressed his face against Aster's side. "I don't like them."

"Don't think anyone does. Can't hurt to ask, so long as you eat as well."

"I'll try. Food why?"

"It'll cushion the vodka," Aster pointed out. Jack was such a scrawny little slip of a brat, even a taste of North's version of alcohol would go straight to his head. Food would delay and diffuse the effects. Quite probably help stave off a hangover, too.

Jack nodded slowly, and then fell silent, pressed up against Aster's side. He seemed perfectly content there, and when Aster looked down after a minute or two, saw the boy was drowsing, like a kitten.

North came back not long after, with a flask of his home-brewed vodka, and yeti bearing food. Jack straightened up, pulled Aster's arm back down across his shoulders when he tried to shift away, and studied the offerings.

Sandy was the only one, in the end, to not indulge in a drink. Being made out of stardust made certain things easier, Aster supposed; no need to waste time eating and you slept only if you chose to.

The food was good, and the drink did as he'd hoped for, taking the edge off. It did more for Jack, though. The boy started giggling halfway through his meal and three-quarters of the way through his glass, eyes unfocused. Aster took most of Jack's scant weight, arm across the shoulders not just holding the boy close, but upright as well.

Aster paused, his own glass halfway to his mouth, and then set it down. He took hold of Jack's glass, and sniffed it, to the boy's evident amusement.

"Eh, North?" Orange juice and vodka, the one very much overpowering the other. "Think you forgot, Jack's supposed to have a _little_ vodka and a _lot_ of orange juice."

"Hm? Yes, yes, I know this, why do you say so?" North asked.

"There's a lot of vodka left, and a little juice for coloring and taste." He stared at the Russian over the lip of the glass. "You got Jackie-boy here sloshed."

Jack giggled, whispered the word 'sloshed', and giggled some more.

North stared at Jack. "Oh. Ah." He looked sheepishly between Aster, Tooth, and Sandy, and hunched his shoulders. "Whoops?"

Whoops? _Whoops_? A snarl rose up in his throat, fought the alcohol for control of his tongue, and won. He would've said something after that, probably something that'd put a dent in his friendship with North, except for Jack.

The boy shifted against him, and stared up into Aster's face. "Whoa," Jack muttered. "Your chest just buzzed like a bee... Bumble-Bunny!"

... He was not drunk enough for this.

Tooth snorted in amusement, and sipped at her drink. "Yellow and black... it'd be a daring color combination, Bunny."

Aster glared at her. "I am not a bee."

"You could be, though. You have the flowers."

"And how much have _you_ had to drink, Tooth?"

Tooth raised her eyebrows, and leaned sideways against North's shoulder. "Enough. I'm a grown adult. I can drink until I'm tipsy if I want to."

North smiled at Tooth. "Until you are drunk, even."

"No, the girls will cover for tonight, but I will need to work tomorrow..."

Lovebirds. Aster grimaced, and shot a look over at Sandy. When would those two stop their courtship flights and just settle down in a nest together? Or even two nests. Especially now that Tooth was actually taking time off. It'd work, about as well as any other pairing among the spirits.

Sandy shrugged in reply, and shooed one of the inevitable elves towards the mostly empty plates. Yeah, at this point, Aster figured the eating portion of the night was over and done with. And the drinking, too.

Just to be sure, he moved both his glass, and Jack's, to the side and out of reach.

Jack took the opportunity to crawl into his lap.

Aster froze, every muscle and joint locking up. Jack seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on the Pooka. He leaned forward, one hand braced against Aster's chest, the other reaching up and pressing against Aster's cheek. It was hard, extremely, to not just turn his head to the side and nuzzle into that small palm, press a kiss to the wrist and the slow pulse he could hear there.

"Bunny," Jack said, his unfocused gaze intent and focused on Aster's forehead. "Bunny, Bunny, Bunny-bun-bun."

Despite himself, Aster felt one side of his mouth twitching. "Hey there, Jackie."

" _Hi_!" Jack drew the word out, until it was a drunken five syllables long. "Bun- Bunny. You're a _rabbit_."

"Pooka," he corrected.

"Pooka," Jack said, and nodded faux-wisely. "Fluffy Pooka-rabbit. Fluffy fluff..." He frowned, and reached up with his other hand to stroke fingers through the fur on Aster's other cheek. "Very fluffy, yup. And soft. Like... not a cloud. Clouds aren't soft. They're not there, because they're water gas made see-able. Soft like not-a-cloud." He grinned, and wiggled a little on Aster's lap, apparently getting comfortable.

Aster clamped his hands tight on Jack's hips to prevent any more such shifting about. Suddenly, drinking was looking like a very bad idea. Self-control was compromised, more than simple exhaustion could account for, and it was tempting to respond to that slight weight and alluring movement. Equally tempting to lean forward and nuzzle at Jack's neck, that long, graceful line of pale skin...

No! No, no, no, no doing that, bad Pooka!

"Good to hear," he said, only a little strangled. "Anything else you want to say?"

Jack hummed, still petting at Aster's cheeks, and looked up at the Pooka's ears. Sudden interest lit his eyes. "These!" he said, and grabbed Aster's ears before he could pull back.

"Oh, ah- Jack! No, not my ears!"

The idiot winter spirit giggled, and began moving Aster's ears about as though he were trying to adjust a television's antennae. It wasn't painful, no, but the contact was sending little shocks down his spine and - oh, Jack's fingers were chill, but not cold, and not uncomfortable - and he really needed to stop Jack before something happened that made him regret forgoing _pants_ some centuries back.

"Jack!" He caught hold of the boy's hands, and eased them away from his ears. He was shivering, he realized, caught between conflicting desires. Or not exactly desires. _Need_ demanded he curl around Jack's slight form, hold him close and imprint his scent on Jack's skin, so everyone knew who the boy belonged to, and _not to touch_...

 _Responsibility_ told him to keep his hands to himself. Jack was drunk. Jack was young, caught forever on the cusp of hormones that'd make him think about mating and romance and sexual love. Jack wasn't his species. Jack wasn't interested.

"Is something wrong?" Jack asked, looking hurt.

"N-no. No. Nothing's wrong. I just... Look, it's been a long day. I think you should go to bed."

"Oh." Jack nodded at that, just a little too enthusiastically for a little too long. "Yeah, okay. Bed's good. Take me to bed, Bunny?"

Take him to... Aster shoved down instinct and desire and the nasty side of him that wanted to take and keep, and coughed. "Well. C'mon, Frostbite, don't think you'll be too steady walking..."

Sandy gave him a knowing look while Aster escorted Jack out of the room. North and Tooth were more understanding... and more warning. He ignored them all to the best of his ability, which at the moment wasn't much.

Halfway down the hallway, Jack was stumbling too much to walk, even with Aster's support. It was only reasonable to pick him up, and cradle him close. Jack really was little more than a wisp, weighing barely anything. The boy hummed at the shift from upright to held tight, but didn't protest. Just rested his head against Aster's shoulder, so trusting it hurt.

There was one guest bedroom that had been set aside specifically for Jack. It was fairly obvious that the winter spirit didn't use it much. For one thing, there were no personal effects. At all. Even the room Aster had been given, that he hadn't set foot in for almost a full century, still had a few odds and ends on the dresser. Jack's room... the walls were still a default powder blue, the comforter a darker blue, the curtains white. Not a bit of the trickster personality Aster was...

Hell. Now, huh? He'd done a damn good job about not thinking of that revelation, yet. Another few minutes more, and he'd be able to retreat to privacy, to deal with it.

Apparently that was not to be. He tried to lower Jack to the bedspread, and almost lost chunks of fur to the boy's grip. "Jack-"

"No." Jack pouted. "Mine. Stay."

Stay. He stopped himself with only one knee on the mattress, but it wasn't exactly the best position. Jack was right under him, looking sleepy and pleased and-

No pinning the sweet and innocent winter spirit to the mattress and ravaging him until they were both unconscious. That would be bad.

"You need to sleep."

"Stay with me. I won't-" He paused to yawn. "-have nightmares with you with me."

Aster shook all over, once, and then nodded. "Alright." One night. One night with Jack in his arms, curled so trustingly against him, heedless of the monster sharing his bed.

He could manage for just one night. And it'd be a treasured memory, for later.

"Alright," he said again, and lay down beside the winter spirit. Jack smiled, and rolled over until he was pressed right up against Aster, one arm draped over the Pooka's waist, the fingers of his other hand tangled in Aster's chest fur.

"'Kay. Night, Bunny."

Aster ran one hand over Jack's hair, and swallowed hard. "G'night Jack. Sleep well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Jack was fun to write. Commence guessing about how much Sandy elaborated. And I wonder just what realization Aster had there, about Jack...?
> 
> Kitty Jack is now every Tuesday. Woohoo!


	8. Chapter Seven - Truths

Aster woke up when Jack shifted against him - against him? Oh, right, he'd agreed to sleep in the same bed so Jack wouldn't have nightmares - and made an 'urp' noise.

He set land speed records getting the boy to the attached bathroom, head over the toilet bowl.

"Jack?" he asked. Jack promptly retched, and threw up his last meal in a rush.

Aster's own gorge rose up - he'd never been good with little things like other people puking - but he kept from hurling from sheer force of will. He cringed as Jack hacked and coughed and spat and gagged, but didn't run away like he really, really wanted to. Jack needed him, even if in this case 'need' was only in holding his hair back.

It took far, far too long, in his opinion, but Jack finished with being sick. He didn't sit back on his heels so much as start to topple backwards, held upright by Aster's arm around his back. He huddled against Aster's side, shivering, eyes at half mast and glassy. The mess in the toilet was quickly flushed away. Some days, Aster wondered why North had a working septic system when they were all spirits and thus didn't need _that_ part of a bathroom. Other days, well... Other days it was normally Aster bent over and worshiping the porcelain goddess, usually after a long evening of drinking with North.

Come to think about it, it'd been six, seven decades since he'd last done that with the old Russian, hadn't it? He wasn't sure whether to regret it or not. On the one hand, North had been a lot more tolerable when they were getting drunk together with semi-regular frequency. On the other... No hangovers if he didn't drink.

"B-Bunny?" Jack asked, voice quavering slightly. He licked his lips, and made a face.

"C'mon then, Frostbite." He helped Jack up onto his feet, and then over to the bathroom sink. There was, as could only be expected, a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste next to the taps. Tooth had obviously been in here, or more likely Baby Tooth, just to make certain Jack had all the oral care products he could ever need. "Let's get that taste out of your mouth."

"Yeah," Jack said, and turned the water on.

He didn't need much help after that, apart from something to lean against. Jack was as thorough as Tooth could have wished, up to and including rinsing his mouth with specialized mouthwash. The stuff humans used killed off all bacteria in the mouth, including the good kind. The stuff Tooth distributed to everyone only killed off the bad, and didn't taste too bad, either.

Aster may or may not have accidentally drunk a full bottle one Easter. In his defense, he'd been painting. Also in his defense, she'd just left it there beside him, without saying hello or anything. He'd thought... well, he wasn't too sure what he'd thought, other than 'thirsty' and 'drink here'.

Jack didn't floss, but that was probably only because his hands were shaking too much for it.

"C'mon, Frostbite. Feel up to lying down again, or would you rather sit up?"

Jack leaned up against Aster's side, and shrugged one shoulder. "Sit up, I guess? You're not leaving, are you?"

"I..." Well. He hadn't exactly planned on leaving, now that Jack was awake, but he hadn't figured he'd be welcome to stay, either. "Well. C'mon then. Let's get you back in bed."

"Stay," Jack muttered, and fisted one hand in Aster's fur. It didn't hurt - yet. If he tried to pull away, he'd lose most of that handful, which _would_ hurt. He'd really rather skip that.

"If that's what you want," he said, and smoothed a hand over kitten-soft hair.

"Is," Jack agreed. He pressed his head sideways against Aster's hand, and hummed in what seemed to be pure pleasure at the contact. "More?"

More petting? Easy enough. "Sure. Just come with me, yeah?"

He got Jack back into bed, and tucked under the covers. The boy looked mutinous until Aster settled down beside him, atop the sheets but under the duvet. It was cold enough, even inside North's home, to need the duvet. He was no yeti, with _three_ layers of fur to keep him warm.

Good thing Jack's body temperature was only a little lower than human-norm, and he only radiated cold when he wanted to.

Jack snuggled up against him again, and nudged him in the side with his forehead until Aster gave in and started petting his hair again.

"Tha' feels good," Jack mumbled. He relaxed, boneless and trusting in Aster's grip.

"Jack?" Hope was the flutter of a butterfly's wings in his heart, hesitant and new. But there. "Mind if I ask you a question, mate?"

"Go 'head..."

He bent his neck, and nuzzled Jack's hair, right beside his thumb. "You're not afraid of me?"

"No." One bleary, red-rimmed eye peered up at him; the other hidden from sight by his own wrist. "Don' be stupid, Bunny." He yawned. "Is notta good look for you."

With that, as Aster watched, the boy slid into sleep. Aster got them adjusted, lying down again, and held Jack's limp form to his chest. Jack snuffled a bit, and then fell almost silent, his breathing hardly stirring the long hairs next to his cheek.

* * *

"Bunny?"

"Gah!" He fumbled the egg he was painting. Almost dropped it. Jack swooped in, pale fingers - a shade _paler_ than the egg, in fact - curling around the fragile shell.

"You're kinda jumpy today," Jack said, and gave him the egg back. "I didn't wreck it, did I?"

Aster snorted, and turned the egg over in his hands. Even if the paint job had been messed up - it hadn't - it would've been Aster, not Jack, at fault. Well, mostly. "How'd you get in here?"

Jack shrugged. "I felt like visiting."

Well, that answered _why_ , not _how_...

"Jack." Aster frowned; he was sitting down, and Jack was standing, yet their eyes were almost level. Jack was a little taller, this way, but not by much.

How could he possibly be so _small_?

"Oh, come on, let me keep some secrets?" The boy smirked at him, but the bravado was covering... nerves. It was subtle, but there, just a touch. Jack's body language- his shoulders were hunched, and he was turned ever so slightly away from Aster, precursor to the precursor of a defensive crouch. His chin was dipped, so he watched Aster from under his eyebrows, bangs shrouding his eyes in a... quite charming manner, actually. And Jack had tucked his hands into his sweater pocket, staff cradled in the crook of one elbow.

"Bunny? You're staring at me."

Oh. So he was. That was probably making Jack even more nervous, wasn't it?

"Sorry," he said, and looked down at the egg. "Just, uh. Just thinking that the light's good on your hair..."

Jack moved several steps closer. "You were... thinking about sketching me?" he asked, sounding adorably confused.

Aster painted the egg a bit more, and then shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe? If, uh. If that's not...?"

"No, no." He looked up, and Jack was smiling. "That's... okay. So, you want to draw me like one of your French girls?"

Aster frowned. "I don't... huh?" What French girls? Where? How'd they get into the Warren?

Jack giggled when Aster stood up and started looking around, but burst into outright laughter when the Pooka pulled one of his boomerangs out and held it ready. "Not- not like that, Bunny! It's a... never mind. You've never seen the movie, you wouldn't get it. It's a pop culture reference. Y'know, one of those things you ignore?"

Aster snorted, and put the boomerang away. "You should put warning labels on those things."

"I could," Jack said, and patted him on the shoulder. "But that'd lessen the amusement value." He paused, and ducked his head. "Besides," he added. "You look so cute when you're confused."

Cute? _Cute_? He was _not_ -

... Jack thought he was cute?

He tried speaking, several times, but finally managed nothing more than a dumbfounded stare. Jack stared back, chewing at his lower lip.

Aster could just smell the red-copper scent of blood.

"Here, stop that." He reached over and, just because it was the easiest way to put his thumb to Jack's lip, cupped the boy's jaw. "You'll chew your own face off next."

Jack's lower lip slid out from between his teeth with a barely audible 'pop', even for Pooka ears. He stared up at Aster, eyes very wide, trembling hardly at all, but still. Trembling. Aster took a deep breath, careful not to breathe through his nose, and paused.

This close, he could taste scents, if they were strong enough. Jack... wasn't afraid. A careful sniff proved it. Nervous, yes, but not scared. Under the crisp scent of frozen water and chilled pine, there were the aforementioned nerves, and... desire.

Desire?

Aster swallowed, and slid his hand along Jack's jaw, until he'd shifted to cradle the back of the boy's head. "Jack?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Jack blurted. He shifted as well, moving to clutch his staff with both hands, holding it between them. "I'm not. I know you think I am, and I swear, Bunny, I'm not."

"I'm... starting to believe that." Jack's hair was downy-soft beneath his fingers, in a way no other humanoid's hair had ever been. Almost exactly like a Pooka kit's fur, before whatever particular clan features grew in. Petting Jack's hair was quite soothing, really.

"... Are you petting me?"

Aster paused, hand halfway through another stroke. "Maybe?"

Jack pursed his lips, and then shrugged. "Okay. Carry on."

Aster chuffed, and bent low enough to rub his cheek against the top of Jack's head. "Doesn't anything faze you?" he asked. "I turn into a berserk monster with six arms."

Jack hummed, and dropped his staff to one side. Aster froze at the gesture. "Well," Jack murmured, just loud enough for Aster to hear him, "to be fair, your berserk side kind of has a thing for cuddles." He stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Aster's waist. "You... _really_ don't frighten me."

"I'm starting to get that impression, Jack," he murmured, and resumed rubbing his cheek against Jack's head.

"About time," the cheeky brat muttered. Aster didn't think he was supposed to have heard that.

* * *

He relocated the two of them from the egg fields, which were for work, to a more comfortable part of the Warren. Aster never had managed to get _completely_ comfortable with wide open spaces and nowhere to hide. Too much soldier, too many instincts, just... too much. He preferred actual plains, with tall grasses up to his shoulder and the occasional bush, clusters of trees along the unseen waterways. That was good, and right, and proper for a Pooka of his type.

Or the forest here. Late spring flowers bloomed wherever the artificial sunlight made it through the canopy overhead, the beams like spotlights on the jewel tones of the petals. Reds and yellows, oranges, purples, whites... And between the flowers were ferns, and mossy rocks, and old, old trees that creaked and groaned in the faint breeze.

"Do you get fresh water from the river here?" Jack asked, even as he sprawled over a large boulder, flat on the top. He looked as comfortable on the rock as he did taking up most of an overstuffed couch big enough for several yeti.

"Nah, mate, I've a well under my burrow. Can pump meself fresh water any time I want." He probably could've done something fancier, or more modern, but it wasn't like he took too many baths with his fur, and dishes? He probably had an allergy to washing dirty dishes, he did them so rarely.

Jack hummed, and closed his eyes. "This is nice," he mumbled. "Why didn't you tell me this place was here?"

"Never came up, I guess." As usual, the barely-there itch between his shoulder blades faded away, noticeable only by its absence. Mind, he was so used to the itch that it felt weird not to feel it, and he didn't notice when he wasn't feeling it. Much like wearing a watch, he supposed. Very strange the first bit, and then normal, once a bloke adjusted.

"You realize I'm going to explore everywhere now?" Jack rolled over onto his back, stretching his arms up over his head as he did. "Mmmm, very nice..."

"I'd have thought you'd prefer something a little cooler." Aster, on his end, preferred late spring. Just cool enough he didn't die of heat stroke, not cold enough he shivered and shook. Thanks to his believers, his holiday, and the twists and turns his magic had taken, he was stuck in a permanent summer coat of fur. He almost missed the days he'd grow a fluffy under-layer for the winter. It always felt like he was wrapped in the world's warmest flannel blanket, then, and he hadn't been quite so leery of snow.

"The cold makes me twitchy. Like way too many cups of espresso." Jack cracked one eye open to peer over at Aster. "Winter time is work time, and work time is frazzled Jack time."

"I - what?" Aster shook his head.

"Warmer temperatures mean I don't have this itchy twisting feeling under my skin. Powers are stronger when it's colder." He rolled back onto his stomach, apparently so he could look at Aster properly. "If I don't make snow during winter, or freeze stuff, or..." He paused, and then shrugged. "Or whatever. I'd probably explode. I don't have that feeling when it's warmer, like this. Still cold enough that I won't boil to death in my own sweat, but not so cold I have to make it worse, you know?"

"I think so," Aster murmured. "So you don't like summer."

"Icky heat," Jack agreed.

"Autumn?"

"Late autumn? Perfect time of year. Everyone's happy the heat's broken. Air conditioning can turn off, but you don't have to turn the heat on. At night, you snuggle down under nice warm blankets, and hot chocolate tastes super-nummy after not having it for so long, and soup." Jack sighed with pleasure. "Don't get me started on how good soup tastes after you've been running around in the fallen leaves..."

"Fond memories?"

"You have no idea."

Aster hummed in amusement, and settled back against a large tree. The large and curving roots made a surprisingly comfortable recliner, so to speak. "Jack?"

"Hm?" The boy was on his back again, and his sweater had ridden up to reveal a slice of alluringly pale skin, just above his hips. Aster fell speechless, at least until Jack repeated his inquisitive hum and opened an eye to look at him.

"Ah, well." He cleared his throat, and pretended he hadn't been caught staring. Jack was smirking. "You don't normally talk about this stuff."

Jack looked away from him, and stared up at the leaves overhead. "I know you're a lot older than me," he said. Aster judged, from tone of voice, that Jack wasn't aware _how_ much older he was. "But... three hundred years is a long time. It wasn't always nice, or fun." He paused to laugh. "Actually, mostly it wasn't. It's not..."

He worried at his bottom lip again. "I think North and Tooth want to see me as some innocent little kid, whose only problem during my entire life was a little bit of loneliness. Because maybe, if they think that's the worst that happened, maybe it wasn't so bad to be alone. After all, I had the children to play with, even if they didn't see me. And... I don't know, maybe I'm reading it wrong."

"Maybe you're not," Aster suggested. "I know I don't quite like the idea of how you got those scars." No. He very much didn't. "And for you, Jack, three hundred years is an eternity."

"No one would so much as give me the time of day," Jack whispered. Aster's primary heart tried to crawl up into his throat. "I- I _know_ you guys are busy. Were busy. But I kept trying, and..." He bit his lower lip.

"Oh, Jack." Aster moved away from the tree, and knelt down beside the boy's chosen rock. "Oh, Jackie, don't... You really want to bleed? Leave your poor lip alone."

"If it bled, you'd kiss it better," Jack said, eyes glowing with shy trust. "Right?"

As surprisingly appealing as the idea was, there was just one stumbling block. "Pooka don't - I mean, my face isn't built..." This time he was the one to bite carefully at his bottom lip. "I'd try."

"I know," Jack murmured. He cleared his throat, and sat up. "So, now that the emotions are out of the way, why'd we come here? Other than it being a really nice spot and all."

Aster stayed where he was. "We need to talk."

"Uh oh," Jack said, laughing a bit. Didn't hide the way he hunched his shoulders, or picked at his trousers. "Not what you want to hear from a potential boyfriend." He paused, sudden fear in his expression.

"There's stuff you should know. If, well, the boyfriend thing." He twitched his ears. "Stuff you might not want to put up with."

Jack's eyes widened, and then he smiled.

_Oh_. Well. That was... a very nice smile. Aster's primary and secondary hearts were set to racing, just from that shy little curve of Jack's mouth, and the way he peered up through his bangs at Aster, so sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to draw the boy into his arms and hold him safe, keep the world away.

He actually reached out, but stopped himself halfway through the gesture. "Jack?" he asked. He would not take the choice away from the boy.

Jack didn't hesitate though. He scooted across the rock until he could curl up against Aster's chest, head pillowed on one shoulder. "Yeah?"

Aster breathed in the boy's scent, with so many nuances and flavors it was hard to tell what, exactly, he was smelling. "You, ah, have any questions?"

"About what?"

"Me."

He could feel Jack's grin. "Oh, plenty, Cottontail. But why don't we get your talk out of the way first? Maybe you'll answer my questions."

Good enough. Aster cleared his throat, and began to speak. "Well, I don't know if anyone's told you this, but I'm not from this planet..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, revelation part one - check. Jack is not afraid of the rabbit. I repeat, Jack is not afraid of the rabbit. We may all celebrate now.
> 
> Just wait for the _next_ chapter. -evil laugh- -pause- Wait, is it next chapter, or the one after...?


	9. Chapter Eight - Breathless

It was evening when he stopped talking. Aster half-closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the feeling of Jack, curled up against him, as they both reclined against a large tree. Well, it was more that Aster was reclined against the tree, and Jack was lying half on Aster's chest, half on the ground beside him. It was quite comfortable, however you phrased it.

Jack didn't say anything for a long time. Long enough for the 'sun' to finish setting, and the forest to slip from twilight to true night.

Finally, the boy took a deep breath, and rubbed his cheek against Aster's shoulder. "So," he said. "You're a grumpy, old, tail-butt and you think that'll send me screaming into the night away from you? Or was it the six arms that you thought would be a turn off?"

"A- _excuse_ me?"

"Because," Jack said, not missing a beat, "I have to say, six-armed cuddles are the best cuddles." He added, after a beat, "Not too sure about the grooming, though."

" _Grooming_?" His primary heart sank down into his stomach, it felt like. "I... with my tongue?"

"I _hope_ that was your tongue." Jack reached up and pried at Aster's mouth with one hand. He managed it, only because of the darkness. "That _is_ your tongue, right Bunny?"

"Stop that!" He snapped at Jack's fingers.

"Hah. _There's_ my grumpy Bunny-pants."

"If you don't stop with those nicknames, ya gumby-"

Jack bit his shoulder.

Aster rolled over and pinned the boy to the ground. Someone was growling. After a moment, he realized that someone was him, and he was pressed tight against Jack, muzzle against the boy's neck and fully prepared to bite down in retaliation and escalation.

"Not," he growled, and pulled back. Or tried to. Jack had his arms around Aster's neck, and didn't seem inclined to let him back off. "Not a good idea, Jackie."

"And there's my fluffy-butt who doesn't treat me like I'm made of _glass_!" Jack was probably glaring. Pity Aster couldn't see, what with the lack of light.

"I don't - I didn't - did I?" He stopped trying to pull away. But he didn't press his face down into the crook of Jack's neck, either.

Jack sighed, and his death-grip eased up. "A little. After you saw my - the scars. But I'm tough, Cottontail. I can take a bit of wrestling... and biting, if you want to go that route."

"Not yet." Which wasn't a 'no'. Aster grimaced, secure in the knowledge that Jack wouldn't see it.

"What was that face for?"

Or maybe he would. "I... you're so _young_ , I shouldn't be..."

"What?" Jack asked. "Thinking about this sort of thing? Because I'm thinking about biting you. And doing a lot of other things that probably belong in titty magazines."

A short coughing fit later, Aster was able to talk again.

"Jack..."

"I don't care how much older than me you are. I'm an adult. Hell, I'm three hundred and... I dunno. Twenty years? Twenty-one?" Jack huffed. "Why'd they change New Year's date, again?"

"To annoy you," Aster said, utterly deadpan.

"That makes sense. Anyways. I'm an adult. Whatever I look like. Would it be easier if I could grow a beard? I want to grow a beard. Next person who tries patting me on the head and being all patronizing is going to _lose_ that hand and I'm gonna _eat_ it."

"No cannibalism."

"But the other winter spirits can do it, why can't I?" Jack whined.

"If the other winter spirits jumped into one'a them cremation ovens, would you do it too?"

"No," Jack mused. "I'd probably get popcorn and cheer, but I wouldn't follow them in. Fine. Being a Wendigo would probably be pretty dull, and I'd get beaten by a seashell. A _seashell_ , Bunny. _Crab-trash._ "

"Good reason not to, then," Aster said, amused. He nuzzled Jack's temple before remembering himself. "Ah."

"No. No and a thousand and _one_ times no. Don't you _dare_ be stupid. I want you. You want me. You're literally older than the planet, so what? I'm, like, one of the youngest spirits anyways, everyone I date is going to be older than me." Jack grabbed a handful of Aster's neck ruff, and tugged. "Which would you rather, that I hook up with another spirit closer to my age who's a massive jerk, or some really old guy who'll treat me amazing and like a real person? And... are you _growling_?"

"No," he said, after he swallowed down the rest of the growls.

"You were, too," Jack said, but he didn't sound like he minded.

"Right," he muttered. Not being able to see Jack's expressions was driving him crazy. "Let's... go somewhere with light."

"What, you've got stars under he _aaaah_!" Jack clutched tight to Aster's shoulders when the Pooka scooped him up, and then laughed. "Princess bridal carry?"

"You'd rather be hauled about like a sack of potatoes?"

"No, no, it's just very romantic of you." A nuzzle to the corner of his jaw; how had Jack known where to press his nose? "I like. Carry on."

"Well, since you insist," Aster said. He started walking, long experience letting him navigate the stygian darkness despite not being able to see through the darkness. Jack hummed, and snuggled against him.

... Long experience or not, Jack was very distracting. At least he didn't fall on top of the boy when he tripped.

"Sorry," Jack murmured.

"Just... hold off on that, a bit, okay?"

"Sure," Jack agreed. He remained silent all the way to the edge of the forest, at which point he decided it was the right time to mention, "I forgot my staff by that rock back there."

Aster stopped walking. "I'm not going back there right now."

"Well, gee," Jack said. "I guess I'm stuck here for the night, then."

Well, so he was. Aster smiled faintly, and held the boy closer. "Good thing rain's not scheduled for a bit, then."

"You can make it rain in here?" He felt Jack twist, just a bit; looking up at the cavern roof? "I don't see any stars..."

"Down for repairs." He could feel Jack staring at him. "I'm not joking. That one elf got into the Warren couple... ah, weeks?" Probably weeks. "Anyways. Next I know, the stars aren't working and I have to figure out what went wrong."

"Fake starlight," Jack said. "That can be taken out by an elf."

"They're creative little buggers, you have to give them that." He turned along the edge of the forest, following a faint trail that'd barely be visible during the day. Jack had already seen his home, and he'd be able to offer tea. Even food, if there was anything in his pantry worth eating.

He'd left a light on in the kitchen, styled to look like an old fashioned oil lamp. It even flickered, like real flame. It made the window, and that entire part of the house, glow.

"Pretty," Jack said. Aster hummed his agreement, and moved a little faster now that he could see.

Once at home, he got Jack settled on the couch and took a look in the kitchen for something he could offer. There were biscuits, not quite stale, and the tea of course...

"I'd rather talk to you than eat anything," Jack said, behind him. Aster jumped, and turned to stare at Jack. The boy smiled, a faint shadow of his usual good humor.

"Can't you make a sound?" Aster asked, but left off looking for food in favor of setting up the tea. "I need tea."

Jack nodded, and watched each step of tea making. His focus was rather unnerving, if Aster was honest with himself. Unnerving, and flattering, if the admiration in Jack's eyes meant anything.

Once Aster had the tea tray ready, Jack led the way to the living room. He wondered about the appropriate reaction to the little display. Jack was both comfortable enough to let Aster be at his back, and knew enough about the Pooka's home to know his way around.

After a bit of thought, he decided not to be bothered. But he'd also remember to keep an eye out for winter spirits where they didn't belong, for the near future.

He sat down on the couch, tea tray to the coffee table in front of him, and poured a mug. Just as he was about to take a sip, Jack stole the mug from his hand, added five cubes of sugar, and started slurping.

"Help yourself," Aster said, as dryly as he knew how.

"Thanks, I will." Jack smirked at him from over the rim of the cup.

Aster poured himself another mug of tea, and took a few careful sips. Hot enough to sting the lips and tongue, while at the same time soothing his throat. He'd talked more in one evening than he normally did in several weeks, and that was _including_ a meeting with the others in there.

"So," Jack said. He finished off his tea in a long gulp. Aster might have admired the long column of the boy's throat while he did, but he was looking away when Jack opened his eyes. Jack smirked at him.

"So?"

"So. I think we should talk." Jack set the mug aside, and then turned sideways on the couch, until he was cross legged and facing Aster. "Before you go back to treating me like a fragile flower."

"I wasn't... intending to," Aster said, amending his outright denial at Jack's unamused expression. "But you're..." He gestured at the boy, instead of saying something incriminating.

"What, smaller? _Weaker_? Easily broken?" Jack frowned. "I can hold my own."

Aster gestured to Jack again. "How much do the scars cover?" The bitterness in his voice surprised even him.

"That's different." Jack cleared his throat. "Anyways. Fearlings out of the picture, I can take care of myself. I spent _two hundred and fifty years_ on my own before getting my first scar. Yeah, sometimes I'll need protecting, but if a fearling shows up you can damn well believe I'll be diving behind you first chance I get!"

Sometimes, Aster forgot how long Jack had been on his own. He looked away without saying anything.

"Hey." Jack leaned forward, and rested one hand on Aster's arm. "I'm not saying I want to stand on my own, completely, or anything like that. Just... I'm not glass. I like our little spats. They're fun."

Aster made a face. "You _like_ it when I call you an idiot whose last brain cell died of loneliness weeks ago?"

Jack smirked at him. "I know you don't mean it."

Well, no, but- "That's not the point."

"Nope. You're avoiding the point." Jack tapped one finger against Aster's nose. The Pooka froze, nose twitching. "Wow. That was cute." He did it again.

Aster caught him by the wrist before he could tap his nose a third time. "Stop that."

"You think you're too old for me." Aster dropped Jack's wrist, eyes going wide. "Which," Jack continued, "Is just stupid. Going back to my earlier comment, I'm one of the youngest spirits. The only ones younger than me are ghosts and a couple dryads, and the dryads don't like me. Everyone else has at least five, eight centuries on me. At _least_."

Jack sat back, and rested his hands on his knees. "North's the closest in age to me, did you know that? I mean, that's... humanoid. Because there's always the Groundhog, but no. Just no."

Aster nodded. The Groundhog wasn't actually a _bad_ person, exactly, but... well. Like every other animal spirit, he was territorial, so short-sighted he didn't seem capable of thinking beyond the next five minutes, self-centered, and completely without shame. He hadn't wanked in public yet, but it was only a matter of time.

"So yeah, North's the closest humanoid spirit to me in age. _North_." Jack leaned forward again. "And the others are older."

"But still," Aster muttered. "There's a big difference between a few thousand years and _older than the planet._ "

"Yup, and it's called maturity," Jack chirped. "Emotional, I mean. Physical and chronological is kind of a given."

Aster frowned at him. Apparently, that meant Jack felt the need to explain more. "You can grow older, Bunny, but that doesn't mean you have to grow _up_. You've met most of those guys, right? _I've_ got better emotional maturity than they do." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Well," Aster allowed. "No. They're not... But it's not entirely their fault. People's belief -"

"Doesn't change the fact that I _do not want_ to be in a relationship with any of them. Cheating, lying, fighting..." Jack shook his head. "I'd go crazy in a day, and probably homicidal in a week."

"What, and I'm a better choice?" Aster didn't curl his lip, but only just. "You've barely known me for more than a handful of years."

Jack shrugged, and then tapped him on the nose. "Yeah, that's still cute."

"Stop that!'

"Stop being cute!"

Aster spluttered. "I am not cute!"

Jack shook his head slowly. "You're not winning this one. Anyways. Um, back to the subject... Right. I've known you long enough, Bunny. Maybe only since I became a Guardian, but..." He shrugged. "Rocky start aside, you're... you're my best friend. And I'm attracted to you." He paused, and then added, "Deal with it."

Aster rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not the same species as you. I've got fur!" And long ears, and a tail, and a little tendency to scratch behind said long ears with his foot, and a few other non-human instincts...

"So? Neither am I, anymore. North's not human. Or Sandy, or Tooth." Jack shrugged. "Would you be this freaked out if I was attracted to Tooth? She's got feathers, and an obsession with teeth."

"Well, no," he had to admit. "But she started out human."

Jack shrugged again. "Well, you've got fur, and a thing for eggs that'd be disturbing if it wasn't so cute, and your habits aren't as weird as a few other spirits I know about. I mean, Zeus had sex with a mortal as a swan. And 'golden rain'," he said, with the air quotes. "He pee'd on a girl to get her pregnant. Who does that?"

"Zeus," Aster deadpanned. Jack giggled. "Yeah, okay, maybe that's a point, but -"

"No buts. And before you say I'm too young -"

"How old are you?" Aster demanded. "Physically."

Jack held up one finger, very clearly deep in thought. "You know, I was starting to shave, before I... eh. So... New Years date change... Huh." He blinked several times. "You know, I might be eighteen. Maybe. Seventeen for sure."

"Seven- You look like fourteen at most," Aster managed, somehow not stammering.

"I think it's the white hair." Jack actually rubbed his chin. "You can't see the scruffies."

Scruffies? Aster stared, hard, at the boy's jaw line, before catching himself. He swallowed, hard. There was just one last stumbling block. "I'm... dangerous."

"The six arm thing?"

Yes. That thing, and what he'd done to Jack in '68, and what he could possibly do in the future. "You wouldn't be safe with me. No one would. It's nothing about your skills, Jack, it's... Chocolate can set me off, but it's not the only thing." He looked away. "Strong emotion can do it. An elevated heart rate can do it. We get into one of our knock-down-drag-outs, I could... change, in seconds, and kill you."

Jack laughed at him. Laughed! Hard enough he actually fell off the couch and banged his head off the coffee table. "Owwies," he complained.

'Owwies'? And Jack wondered why everyone thought he was barely out of short pants, instead of capable of growing 'scruffies'.

"Jack?" Aster held one hand out to help the boy back up.

"You're a funny man, Bunny. Funny-bunny. Funny, fluffy Bunny-butt." Jack sat down, once more cross legged and facing Aster. "You're lucky you're cute, 'cause you won't get anyone with brains like that."

"Oy!"

Jack's grin was all teeth. "Your last stint with six arms involved pasting the fearlings and cuddling me. And grooming, let's not forget that. With your _tongue_. No threat to me, unless you count death by embarrassment and tickling. And when's the last time we had a real knock-down-drag-out, anyways? First year I was a Guardian, right? Just after April Fools, 'cause you thought I was going to make your day a misery and I didn't even know _what_ day it was?"

Aster cringed at the memory. He'd been _convinced_ that Jack had purposefully driven him to heights of paranoia, while Jack had clearly been doubting the Pooka's sanity during their confrontation. There'd been name calling, a few punches thrown, Jack had wordlessly screamed at him for a few minutes because 'it wasn't like the big idiot was listening to words, anyways!' and it'd taken two weeks for Aster to calm down after that.

The argument hadn't shown his best side, needless to say, because he'd been just as mature as Jack. Which was to say, he hadn't been in _spitting_ distance of mature.

"But," he said, weakly. There had to be _some_ rebuttal, _some_ way of making Jack see sense.

Jack growled and lunged forward. He grabbed Aster by one shoulder and one ear, and then kissed him.

Or, rather, kissed his upper lip.

Aster's eyes about bugged out of his head. Jack had managed to miss Aster's mouth almost completely, but the boy figured it out in the first few seconds and switched to landing smacking kisses on every bit of face he could. Aster managed to pull back when the kisses began heading south of the jaw line.

"J-Jack!"

Jack shrugged. "So we need to practice."

"Practice!" Aster mentally scrambled for words. Some way to protest. "You can't just -"

"You're my boyfriend. Of course I can kiss you." Jack paused, and his confidence seemed to melt away. He ducked his head, and peered up at Aster through his bangs. "I mean, you do, um, you do... like me, that way, don't you? Or did I completely go totally wrong?"

It would've taken a harder heart than Aster's to deny Jack at that point. "You're making a big mistake with me," he murmured, and reached over to cup Jack's cheek.

"So... yes?"

He sighed. "Yeah, Jackie. El-Ahrairah help you, but yeah. Boyfriend."

Jack's smile would have been reward enough, but not a moment later, the winter spirit had relocated to Aster's lap and was cuddling close. Aster wrapped his arms around Jack, and resolved not to worry about Jack's safety. At least, not for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One- I am tired. Two- Funfun stuff happens later. Three- Insert mad cackling here, horseback riding is exhausting.


	10. Chapter Nine - Surprises

"Are you holding hands?" North eyed the two of them with a disturbing level of intensity, and fingered the old knife at his belt. "Why are you holding hands?"

Jack looked cherubic. Lying liar who lied. "We're dating," he said, and squeezed Aster's hand tight when he tried to pull away.

"Dating," North repeated. He looked ready to say something else, but Tooth cut him off with a loud squeal.

"Dating!" She flew into their personal space, and looked between them. "How long? Oh, really? You look so cute together! And such pretty smiles - show me those teeth!"

Jack obliged her with a grin. Aster scowled. "Back off, Tooth!"

"Ignore the grump," Jack advised her. "He's cranky because he lost the argument."

"Argument?" she asked.

"He kept saying he was too old for me." Yes, because he _was_. "I told him he was wrong. And hey, guess who was right?" Jack held up their clasped hands. "Also, I super-glued us together."

North looked exasperated. "Super... never mind. Come, I have solution to fix. Why would you glue hands together?"

"Because he's an idiot," Aster deadpanned. "There needs to be another reason?"

Jack sniffed. "Fine. Be that way. See if I try to do something special for you ever again."

Aster eyed their joined hands. "Considering how your last attempt went, I'd be right grateful!"

"Why are you so hurtful?" Jack pouted, but his eyes sparkled with good humor. "I am hurt, Bunny. You have hurt me."

Aster looked away from Jack and at North. "Caught him trying to piece together a bowl," he said.

"A bowl?" North paused, half a step, and then continued on. " _Which_ bowl?"

"The plague bowl of Lamashtu," he said dryly.

"It was a very pretty bowl," Jack told Tooth. "A real work of art. How was I supposed to know what it was? There was no sign, it wasn't locked away, just in a box in the back of the cupboard."

"A _be-spelled_ box, and what were you doing in the cupboard, anyways?"

"Looking for the frying pan." Jack turned back to Tooth. "So anyways, there I am trying to do this lug a favor, when he comes storming into the kitchen -"

"We'll need to be kept in the infirmary for a tick or two," Aster said. North nodded. "Probably it can't do nothing broken, but why take chances?"

"- when he grabs me by the wrist -"

"You idiot, I saved your life," he said, mild as milk. Jack grinned up at him.

"Yeah, you get all the kisses for that. But it's your fault the glue got over our hands. If you hadn't grabbed me -"

"Oh, don't even start!"

They bickered amicably down the hall, and Aster caught North and Tooth grinning at each other. Well, he supposed the good-natured back and forth was better than hesitancy, or the screaming arguments they'd used to get caught up in. And if it provided amusement for their friends, who was he to complain? Better than annoying them.

North left them, briefly, in the infirmary, only to return minutes later with a large mixing bowl, a jug of water, and a jar of... some kind of rock salt? Aster sniffed the air, trying to decipher the odd mixture of scent wafting from the jar.

"Put hands in this," North said, and put the bowl on a table in front of them. He poured the water over their hands, until they were submerged to the wrist. Then he added the rock salt, or whatever it was. There was lemon scent, pine, and candy cane, but that could have just as easily been what the jar had been stored next to. "Now, we wait."

"And how long will that be?" Aster asked. "Some of us have a holiday to start prep-work for." Easter was late this year, by the feel of things. Otherwise he'd have already been sleeping out in the egg fields, making sure everything ticked along properly.

"Oh, yeah," Jack murmured. He smirked and began tapping his free hand against his staff. "Easter."

"What. Are you. Planning?" Aster narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing bad." Jack laughed, and leaned sideways. "Would I do that to you?"

"Your idea of bad and mine are _vastly_ -"

"I'll have Tooth vet everything."

Aster paused mid-word, and then nodded. "Fair. Just... no surprises?"

"Good surprises," Jack promised, and leaned a little more against his shoulder. "You'll like them. Promise."

Aster twitched an ear. "I'm not too good with surprises."

"Oh, no," North agreed, and shuddered. "Very bad with surprises. You are so _twitchy_."

"Oh, and you're better, Mr. "Meet the surprise party with swords and barbaric war yollop"?" Aster sneered, not very seriously. "This guy tried to kill me over a birthday party," he told Jack.

Jack's eyes went wide, and he shrank back against Aster's side. "... Oh."

North immediately began falling over himself, trying to assure Jack that he wouldn't do any such thing _now_ , that he'd gained experience and good sense. Aster would have worried, except Jack was hiding a grin by pressing his face against Aster's arm.

Little brat was playing North, wasn't he?

"You're lucky I like you," he muttered to the boy. Jack grinned up at him, and then pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Aster's mouth.

"You can't help it. I'm loveable."

No, he supposed he couldn't help it.

* * *

Jack bounded into the Warren, a manic grin on his face and several shopping bags in hand. "So, Bunny!"

Aster paused in his gardening, and looked warily over. "Yes?"

"I bring presents!" Jack dropped the bags down at Aster's side. They clinked. "Tooth said it was okay."

Aster brushed dirt off his hands, and eyed the bags. Then he eyed Jack, though it was mostly for show. He doubted Frostbite would bring anything really bad into the Warren, at least with only two months left to Easter. "That so?"

"Yeah." Jack ducked his head, the better to stare up at Aster through his bangs. "I thought you'd like it."

"Cut it out, I'll take a look. No promises."

Jack nodded, and sat back on his heels. His eyes danced and practically gleamed, and if Aster hadn't long ago gotten used to humans showing their teeth in pleasure as well as aggression, well... Jack's grin showed molars, leave it at that.

The first thing out of the bags was... they looked like empty, plastic eggs cut in half. Jack was actually bouncing on his toes, still crouched but looking one short step away from binkying about like a young, excited Pooka.

"What's this?" Aster inquired, with a fair amount of wariness.

"They're called eggies!" Jack pointed to the back of the package. "You put the egg in, and drop them in boiling water, and you get boiled eggs without having to peel them!"

Well, that was actually rather clever. Aster nodded, and set it aside. The amount of packaging was a bit of a waste; the manufacturers could have easily protected twice as many... eggies... as they had, if they'd simply portioned things out better.

Everything else in the bag were... tins. Tins of... paint or icing, it was hard to tell. Colored, too.

"Its edible paint," Jack said, his words almost tumbling over each other with how fast he spoke. "Non-chocolate, so you can have it without, you know, worrying you're going to cuddle me or groom me or anything. I just figured, your eggs are always chocolate, so you don't get any, but hard boiled eggs are _eggs_ , and peeling shells just sucks because you always get little shell pieces stuck to the egg..." He paused to pant for breath.

"Did you... get me stuff... so I could have my own little egg hunt?" he asked, looking from the icing paint to the eggies and back again.

"... Was that a bad idea?" Jack hunched his shoulders and turned away slightly.

Aster looked between the eggies and the paint again. "No," he murmured. When was the last time he'd taken time to enjoy one of his creations? Not since he'd altered the plants so the egglets they produced were chocolate based. Several decades, at least, and before that he'd always felt so _busy_...

"Maybe you could help me with these, later?" he asked. "Kind of our own little egg hunt, after Easter?"

Jack beamed, and _launched_ himself at Aster. If the Pooka hadn't braced for impact, he'd have gone tumbling down the hill. As it was, he was knocked back. The gleeful, wiggling armful of cute little frost spirit was quite nice; so were the kisses Jack sprinkled over his muzzle. Then Jack pulled away, and did what was probably called a 'victory dance'. It involved a lot of high stepping, fist pumping, and wiggling of the behind.

Aster may have tilted his head so as to get a better view of said wiggling, but it wasn't like Jack would mind.

If he felt a bit dirty, thinking about a youngster this way... He didn't have to tell anyone, and Jack was the one who'd pushed for the relationship. That made it closer to alright, didn't it?

He just didn't know. Yet, the thought of pushing Jack away and ending things... no. As if it wasn't bad enough the idea made him feel genuinely sick to the stomach, he could feel his beast stir at the idea, and threaten violence.

Jack was in his life to stay. If it made him a dirty old goat intent on a pretty young thing, well... He wouldn't be the first old goat to stray into that scenario.

"You mean it?" Jack asked, dropping down to crouch in front of Aster again. "Really? Just you and me, right? And I can hide the eggs?"

Aster couldn't help but laugh, and ruffled Jack's hair. So soft... He sighed, and realized he was petting Jack, not that the boy seemed to mind. At least, if the disappointed, half-aggrieved whine when Aster stopped petting was any indication.

"Yes, really. Just us. And if you like."

Jack nodded, and then cuddled up with a touch less manic energy than before. "Yeah. I would. I never really... I mean, I'd take eggs, sometimes, one here and one there, but it's not the same."

And that answered a few questions he hadn't known he'd had. Aster brushed one hand over Jack's head and down his back. "Messing with my egg hunts," he murmured, and sighed. "I wish I'd known proper."

Jack snuffled at his shoulder. "Why didn't you?"

"Ah, no one tells me anything. Spent too many years... alright, decades," he amended, and was awarded with a suspiciously quirked eyebrow. "Fine. Centuries. Happy now?"

"Honesty is the best policy." Jack pressed a quick kiss to Aster's nose, and grinned at the inevitable wiggle. "It gets you kisses."

"Fine." He swiped at the odd tingle on the tip of his nose. "Fine. I was a recluse for too long. No one told me anything. Popping out every now and then to look for new colors and see what the latest art trends are, isn't quite the same as gossip."

"No, it's not," Jack agreed, and went back to nuzzling Aster's shoulder. If he kept that up, Aster would shortly lose the power of speech. "So... you didn't know about me?"

"I knew you existed. I knew you stole eggs from my hunts, but not why... and didn't much care, either." He nuzzled Jack's hair with his chin, and sighed. "I didn't think. Figured you belonged to the Winter Court -"

"Bunch of stuck up, mating donkeys," was Jack's opinion.

"- and didn't know you were alone."

Jack shrugged. "Fair enough. And how could you know? The Moon didn't tell _anyone_ about me." He pouted. "Created me, dragged me back from... and then nothing. He's a jerk."

It was hard to argue, going off Jack's experience. "Manny is dreadfully unsocialized. He gets all his cues from robots and lunar moths."

Jack paused, and squinted up at him. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope." Aster gave the boy a little push. "Now help me with the weeding."

* * *

Aster dragged himself in after the last of the egg hunts, and found a small basket at the exit of the tunnel. It was empty. It was made of braided and stiffened cord, so it was flexible but held its shape. Someone with a great deal of enthusiasm but no especial talent had painted gray rabbits on the sides; apparently the basket's flexibility had confounded the artist, so one rabbit had five legs and another looked bloated. A third had three eyes, which was perhaps fitting.

"Jack?" he asked. A chilly breeze curled around him, carrying the faint sound of a giggle, but no more than that.

Right. Their own little egg hunt. He'd meant several _days_ after, not immediately. He was too _tired_.

But he'd promised.

Perhaps, if he found Jack, he'd explain and then the boy would understand? Yes, that sounded like an idea.

Aster carried the basket with him, simply because it'd take too much energy to put it down, and went hunting.

Thankfully, it wasn't much of a hunt. Now that he was using his nose again - Jack wasn't afraid of him! - it was easy to follow the scent trail Jack had left behind him. He suspected Jack could easily hide such a trail, or just not leave one at all, but good of the boy to not go to such efforts. Or, perhaps it was a sign of trust.

It was hard to tell. There were times Jack acted as human as North, or any of the sprogs, and others where it was clear he'd been living wild, and shared many characteristics with the wild beasts. No one both intelligent and wild was ever happy leaving scent trails. It was why he'd worked the magic to create his tunnels, after all. Couldn't track what wasn't there.

The trail led him directly to his burrow, without any detours for hidden eggs. Perhaps the basket meant something else? Jack's way of reminding Aster about their agreement, while at the same time keeping mum about it so if Aster forgot, he wouldn't sound needy?

Over-thinking it, he told himself. Jack was certainly capable of such twisty mental paths, but why would he? The boy was happiest when things were simple and straightforward. If he knew anything about Jack, he knew that.

"Jack?" he asked, when he pushed open the front door.

"In the kitchen." He sounded amused. Aster could all but see the smile that'd be curving Jack's lips - and oh, he had it bad if he was to that point already.

He headed into the room in question, and stopped in the doorway. Jack grinned, and held up what looked like half an Easter egg.

"I figured you'd be tired," he said, and looked Aster over. "And I was right. Tested out the paint. Come over here, Cottontail. Have a snack, and then to bed with you."

Aster shook his head. "I do not understand you," he admitted.

"No? Good. C'mon, fluffy. I tried one, I like it, but then I like everything."

" _Almost_ everything," Aster corrected.

"Same difference." Jack shrugged, and waved the half-egg like a tempting treat.

"Does that difference include kale?"

Jack's expression twisted, and he glared. "If you ever try sneaking me that stuff again, I'm going to do something horrible to you."

Aster chuckled. "Noted." He took the egg, and looked it over. "You made it with that... eggie thing, didn't you?"

"You must be a genius." Jack shrugged when Aster peered at the artwork. "So I don't have your talent with paintbrushes and eggs. Like you could do my frost-work."

What was _that_? Aster turned his scrutiny to Jack. "I never said a word."

"Well," Jack muttered. "It was kind of obvious. Besides, you were frowning."

"Just looking at how the icing does for paint, Jackie. Nothing about your skills." Or lack thereof, but not everyone could be a great artist. Or wanted to be. "Your frost is lovely. Takes lots of practice to get all that detail on something the size of a chicken egg."

"Well..." Jack wrinkled his nose, and looked away. "Yeah. Maybe."

"Work at it obsessively for a couple thousand years, then tell me you're no good," Aster deadpanned, and went back to inspecting the egg. After a careful sniff, he took a bite. Well. Not bad. Egg was a touch underdone, but it wasn't as if Jack had a lot of opportunities to cook for himself. At least, he hadn't mentioned it before. The icing was a bit sugary, but not overwhelmingly so.

"Good," he decided, and finished the egg off. Jack began to smile, and pushed a plate of the half-eggs towards him. "I'm not eating all that on my own. I'll get fat."

Jack laughed at him. "You could use a bit of that," he said. "You're almost as scrawny as I am!"

Aster frowned. His shoulders were a lot broader than Jack's... and his waist was almost as narrow. "Maybe. Join me?"

"Oh, I ate the discards already." Even so, the boy picked up one of the eggs, and nibbled.

Aster sat down at the table, and put the basket beside the plate. "You did this?"

"Yeah." Jack scowled at it, eyes tight. "Why?"

"Good job on the weaving. Don't think I could do it as neat."

"Oh?" The winter spirit perked up. "I could show you."

"Nah. I'm not so good at anything that isn't, ya know, on canvas or something."

They fell quiet at that point. Aster ate the painted eggs set in front of him, intending only to have one or two. He realized, on about the fifth or sixth, that he'd gone far over what he'd intended, and eaten nearly the entire plate. "Oh."

"Guess you were hungry." Jack stood up, and held out one hand. "Come on. Bed for you."

Aster frowned at him. "You're not coming with."

"No?" Jack tilted his head. "Why do you think that?"

"Oh no. I'm sleeping alone. You can kip on the sofa or something."

Jack shook his head, and smiled at him. "Pitch got into the North Pole again."

" _What_?"

"Relax. Sandy was there, he was dealt with, but we'll be hunting in a week or so, when you're not sleep deprived and cranky." Jack slipped one arm around Aster's waist, and directed him out into the hallway.

"And why wasn't I notified?" he asked, sounding cranky even to himself.

"Because it was a day before Easter, and Sandy didn't let North press the big red switch of doom? It wasn't fair to you the first time, it'd be even less fair this time. It's under control, the actual hunt can wait."

Aster sneered, but didn't argue. "I guess you want to make sure he can't get in here."

"Oh, I doubt he can." Jack frowned at the two options. "One of these is a bathroom and one of these a bed, and I don't know which one..."

Well, at least Jack didn't know everything there was to know about Aster's Warren. "Left."

"Right." Jack looked around when they entered the bedroom, and then grinned at the nest. "Cute."

"More comfortable than anything else, trust me."

"You could show me."

"I don't think we're at that point yet, Jackie."

Jack _pouted_ at him. "Fine. Fine. See if I tell you a bedtime story, you mean meanie."

"Oh, get over here." Aster pulled the boy in for a hug, and then - feeling greatly daring - pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "You're a right brat, you are."

"Yeah, but you love me anyways. Pitch can't get in here."

"I'd feel more comfortable agreeing with you, if I knew how you got in here all the time." Aster frowned down at the winter spirit, who smirked in reply.

"No way Pitch can use. I promise that."

It had to do. Aster was quite honestly too tired to keep up with the conversation, so he yawned, nodded, and crawled into bed.

If Jack tucked him in, or even joined him, he couldn't have said. He was asleep in seconds.

There were no nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, have another chapter! Yes, things are moving on. Next chapter? THINGS HAPPEN. -humming- Also, I saw Guardians of the Galaxy, and I am reminded of the early days of Jackrabbit. Only instead of "I can't believe I'm shipping a dead teen and a giant rabbit" it's "I can't believe I'm shipping a sentient raccoon and a sentient tree."
> 
> May I just say, this is awesome? Thank you.


	11. Chapter Ten - Sing to me

"- song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves -"

_Rage hate fire red blood black rage anger rage **rage** _ **rage**

"- and this is how it goes. I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves -"

_Trapped behind his eyes. Watching. Too many hands, too many arms. Screaming. Loud, loud, in his ears, feeding the anger. Fanning the flames._

"- everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves -"

_He ran and jumped and swiped so blood flew through the air and stained his claws, soaked his fur. He dripped blood, and that made things worse. It fed some dark hunger, the hunger that was in control. The Hunger had used his teeth, his weapons. The Hunger had grabbed an old lantern and threw it into the thatch roof._

_The flames clawed at the sky, as hungry as the Hunger controlling him._

"- I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes."

_And always that_ song _._

_The Hunger wanted to find that song, and_ destroy _it. Tear the song to pieces, strewn about bloody chunks of meat. He couldn't stop it. Trapped inside his own body and forced to watch._

_Laysh roared and attacked. The Hunger laughed and laughed and tore his father's arm off at the shoulder. Then took a big bite out of the bloody end, while Laysh screamed and fell back and was consumed by fire._

_Claek was already dead. He should feel sorry for that. It was worse because he didn't._

"Yeah, okay, that's boring. How about... Henry the eighth I am, I am, Henry the eighth I am -"

_North attacked, because the old Bandit King had never had the common sense of a goose. He exchanged blows with the Hunger, one, two - and then the Hunger reached for him and tore his throat out with his fangs. Blood was hot and warm on his tongue._

_Tooth's wings were torn off and her head crushed. Sandy was torn apart and scattered in the ocean._

_The flames burned higher, and the Hunger roared, rearing up onto his hind legs and clawing at the sky._

_The Hunger could not find the song. He feared the moment the Hunger did._

"- And every one was a Henry, never a Willie or a Sam - C'mon, Bunny. Don't do this to me."

_The fire grew nearer, until the flames licked at his arms. The Hunger didn't care, but he did. Everyone was dead, but the song. The voice of the song. And now the flames would eat him alive._

_He deserved it, didn't he? The Hunger had used him, used his body, to destroy everything. His fault._

"Maybe "99 bottles of beer on the wall" will do it? Because I'll sing it. Ten times ten times. So that'll make it... a thousand beers on the wall, I guess."

_Something cool brushed the Hunger on the forehead, and it-he-they looked up._

_It was snowing._

"Right then. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"

_The snow began to smother the fire, coating everything in white. Soft, gentle white, cool beneath his paw pads. Black became gray became white. Fallen bodies became hummocks in the snow, then indistinct mounds, and then gone entirely. The fire dimmed, became embers, became ashes, became covered in the snow that continued to fall._

_The cold numbed the Hunger, and the snow dragged on his limbs. The Hunger tried to run, but could only slog through the snow, which got higher and higher on his body. The Hunger tried to tear the snow apart, but the flakes whirled and resettled, unharmed. The Hunger roared in fury, but the song continued unabated, while the snow wrapped heavy about his limbs, weighing him down. The cold snuck into his bones, made the Hunger lethargic, until it-he-they laid down and rolled over onto its-his-their back._

_The snow covered them like a heavy blanket, and as it-he-they laid there, the blanket seemed to grow warmer, or they grew colder. The Hunger blinked sleepily, and so did he, until_ he opened his eyes and the field of snow blurred and clarified as North's medical wing.

Jack was crooning some song about beer bottles and numbers. He had a surprisingly good voice, though he sounded incredibly tired.

Why was that?

He looked tired, too, white hair looking limp and a touch greasy, large bags beneath his eyes. It wasn't possible for him to have a pallor, but he was tinged faintly with gray instead of his usual blue.

Aster whined, disliking that gray immensely. Pitch Black's skin was gray. Jack wasn't supposed to resemble _that beast_ , not even in the most superficial of ways.

Jack paused in his singing, and stared at Aster. "Cottontail?" he asked, his dulled eyes brightening. "Bunny? You with me?"

Was he? Aster tried to answer, but managed a quiet grunt that even he could barely hear. He blinked up at Jack, who looked tired and worried and _old_ , and did his best to smile.

Smiling felt like the last thing he wanted to do in the universe. But for Jack...

Yes. For Jack, he would smile.

Jack smiled back, and it transformed his entire face. The age simply dropped away, the exhaustion faded, and he looked like someone who'd seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and realized it was dawn-light. He looked _beautiful_.

"Hey," Jack whispered, and ran his fingers through Aster's cheek-fur. "Hey, there, sore-eyes. You had us worried for a while there."

Aster shook, once, under the heavy blankets. Pale cream, he noted absently, flannel. He had no idea why he noticed, or why it mattered, but it did. Strange, it felt like he was covered in lead weights instead.

"Bunny?" Jack asked, and leaned forward. He sounded strained, and looked terrified. "Bunny, was that - are you okay?"

Aster whined, and somehow managed the Herculean effort to turn his head and nuzzle into Jack's palm. El-Ahrairah, he was so tired... what had happened? And why...?

North leaned over him, one hand on Jack's shoulder. Something angry stirred in the back of Aster's mind, but he was too tired for it to gain much strength. He was reduced to staring at that hand, annoyed and confused, and so, so tired.

Hadn't he... no. No, that hadn't happened. Laysh and Claek were long dead, and North, Tooth, Sandy, they had never been to his home world. They hadn't been born early enough, or in the neighborhood.

Strange. So strange. It had seemed so _real_.

"Pitch caught us, my friend," North said, his voice vibrating through Aster's skull. "You were hit the hardest, it seems. It has been three, nearly four days since the fight, and this is the first you have ceased to rave and struggle."

The words would make sense later, he knew, but for the moment they were so much noise. Aster blinked in response, and looked over at Jack again.

"Don't worry," Jack said, and stroked Aster's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

Well, that was alright then. Aster tried to smile again, because Jack looked worn out and worn down, but he fell asleep before his lips could do more than twitch.

* * *

He woke, was reassured, occasionally given something soothing to eat and something sweet to drink, and slept again. He was too tired to do anything else, and he'd done... something... to his voice, so he couldn't even _speak_.

Jack was always there, but it seemed his friends understood his need to see them, to know they were alright, because first there was North, then Tooth, then Sandy, and then a rotation between them. They weren't always there when he woke up, not like Jack, but they were there often enough that he was able to believe that the hallucinations had only been nightmares, nothing more.

After what he thought was a week, he was able to sit up, even leave the bed, though his voice still had yet to recover. That was a disappointment, but hardly the end of the world.

It did make getting across the message "I'm going home now" a bit difficult, so he finally stopped 'arguing' with North, opened a tunnel, and dropped through. He walked slowly, because he didn't have the energy for anything more active than that.

Jack was waiting for him when he finally reached the Warren's egg fields.

Aster paused, ears up and eyes wide.

"Idiot," Jack said, and sighed. "I'm not upset or anything. Except for the part that I didn't know."

Ah. Right. His ears fell back, and he ducked his head in apology. Jack smiled at him, and moved forward.

"So, do you want to be alone? Is that why you left? Or... I mean, I can go."

He shook his head. Jack was fine. He smiled faintly to himself, and reached over to cup the boy's cheek with one large paw. Or _hand_ , as Jack insisted it was called. He'd spent centuries calling them hands, and only a few months reverting to paws, so Jack's insistence was winning.

It was nice.

Jack hummed, and then turned his head just enough to press a kiss to Aster's palm. It set the poor Pooka's hearts racing, in the best of ways. He ground his teeth together in a purr, and stepped closer.

"Still can't talk?" Jack asked. He pressed the tips of his fingers against the base of Aster's throat.

He shook his head in the negative.

Jack shivered. "Shouldn't be surprised," he muttered. "Dunno if you remember, but Pitch strangled you but good. You scared him."

He didn't remember, but that wasn't surprising. It did explain the throat problems, though.

Aster sighed, and nuzzled Jack's hair, very careful not to accidentally chin him. Just because they were together right now didn't mean Jack would want to be with him for always. Aster just had to beat down those particular instincts and everything would be fine.

"You're doing it again," Jack muttered. And then he managed to hook one foot behind Aster's knee and pull, while shoving at the Pooka's shoulders at the same time. Aster tumbled to the ground, wheezing in shock.

"Hah!" The boy jumped onto him, knocking him flat on his back, and then sat back. He looked so pleased with himself Aster could hardly be annoyed, even if Jack was straddling him. And sitting on his stomach. And... Oh.

His eyes widened as the blatantly _sexual_ nature of Jack's pose hit him between the eyes.

Jack smirked at him. "That's better," he said, and slid his hands up Aster's arms to his shoulders at a torturously slow pace. Aster shivered at how his fur was being ruffled. "You're looking at me..."

Of course he was. No one, nothing, better to look at than Jack.

Aster moved to hold Jack by the hips, moving slow enough that he could pull away if he wanted. Clearly, Jack didn't want to, because he stayed right where he was, perched just over the Pooka's naval.

The light shone through Jack's hair, setting it aglow so there was a faint aura about his head. His face was in shadow, but his eyes blazed like candles in the dark, with an odd, greenish flicker in the backs of his pupils. His fingers kept twitching against Aster's fur, furtive little flickers of movement that pressed the edges of Jack's nails into Aster's skin.

"I know it was a bad situation and all," Jack said, "but I've got to say, seeing you like that, Bunny? All six-arms and ferocious and terrorizing Pitch and whacking nightmares left and right..." He shivered.

Aster swallowed, and bit back a grimace. He'd scared Jack, hadn't he?

"Sexiest I've ever seen you," Jack whispered, and licked his lips.

... What?

Aster stared up at Jack, and then raised one eyebrow in question.

"You were very manly," Jack said dryly, and shifted so he could trace one finger down the side of Aster's neck. "All fierce and protective, like a thunderstorm in flesh..." He sighed happily, and bent down to press a kiss against Aster's lips.

It was awkward, as usual, and Aster was still half-stunned and not able to participate fully. Jack didn't seem to mind. He made pleased little sounds, and then gasped when Aster collected enough of his thoughts to tentatively lick at the boy's lips. Somehow that ended up with his tongue in Jack's mouth, as the winter spirit sucked on it like it was a particularly delicious lolly.

Aster sighed when Jack pulled away, and licked his lips. Jack beamed at him, and then abruptly pulled his sweater off.

"It'd jut get in the way," he said, when Aster's eyes widened.

He'd known Jack didn't wear a shirt under his sweater, but there was a difference between knowing, and seeing all that creamy white skin on display. The scars were barely noticeable in the soft light, so much so that Aster found his gaze skipping right past them to Jack's nipples, a dusty pink tinged faintly with blue. They were starting to perk up, making it easier to reach up and brush his fingers over the tight buds.

"Aster!" Jack caught hold of his wrist, and pressed into the touch, looking euphoric. He was perhaps a little eager; the tips of Aster's claws made dimples in his skin, not that he seemed to notice.

Aster did. He pulled back, despite Jack's sad little whine, and stared at his claws in horror. How could he have forgotten? He'd almost...

"Not glass!" Jack snapped, and tried to pull Aster's hand back to his chest. "More touching!"

Aster tried to talk, and managed a harsh wheeze. He tried again, and started coughing.

"No talking!" Jack grabbed him by the shoulders, and held tight while he convulsed. Aster was finally able to breathe normally after a few minutes. At that point, Jack moved so one hand was cupping Aster's cheek, and the other carefully stroking over his ears.

"Okay?" he asked.

Aster nodded, and sighed. This would have been so much easier with words, but he'd have to do his best.

He held up one hand, and flexed his fingers, eyeing his claws meaningfully. Then he looked at Jack's bare chest, and carefully traced one long, jagged scar. It wasn't a challenge to look mournful.

He'd done that. Even if Jack had forgiven him, Aster wasn't able to forget.

"You're not worried, are you?" Jack asked, sounding surprised. "C'mon, Bunny, if you won't hurt me when you're at your craziest, what makes you think you'll hurt me ever? I mean, really!"

Pretty idiot. Aster growled, and shook his head. He tapped his thumb and forefinger together so the claws clicked, and did his best to give Jack a meaningful _look_.

Jack continued to look confused. "I like your claws."

There was nothing to do about that except 'face palm'. Aster covered his face with one hand, and sighed. Then he looked up at Jack, tapped one scar, and mouthed the words 'my fault, I'm sorry.'

At that, understanding clearly dawned. Jack's eyes widened, and his head came back. "My scars...? Bunny, you _saved_ me, I don't blame you. If you hadn't shown up, I'd have been dead."

Aster shook his head again, and looked mournfully down at his hand.

Jack wrapped his hand in both of his. "Bunny," he said, sounding odd. "Do you... _remember_ what happened? In '68?"

No. He knew, in that he'd figured it out, but he didn't remember. He shook his head once.

"Alright," Jack said. He looped his arms around Aster's neck, not quite pressing their foreheads together. "So. Easter of '68. I'd been hanging around... I don't know, some town or other. And then, that night, there were these... things." He shuddered.

Aster wrapped his arms around Jack's back, holding him close. He made an inquisitive sound, as best as he could.

"Don't interrupt. They were fearlings. They... chased me." Jack looked away, but didn't pull back. "They caught me."

So much horror, so few words.

"I thought I was going to die. There was a storm, but... the cold didn't affect them. I don't know if it was me or the wind, but." He shrugged. "Blizzard.

"And then," he said, looking back at Aster. "Just when I thought that was it, that I was going to die there, in some little forest in who knew where, alone... you showed up."

He had? Aster blinked, staring up at Jack.

"You had six arms, and you tore into the monsters like a freight train," Jack murmured. He pressed a quick kiss to Aster's nose, and smiled at the inevitable twitching. "Just... destroyed them. Then you turned to me."

And... what? Aster shivered, not wanting to hear what Jack said next, but hanging on every word all the same.

"You touched my cheek..." Jack shifted, and touched the tips of his fingers to Aster's cheek. "Just like this. And then you picked me up, and took me... Well, I don't know where, exactly. Doesn't seem to be part of the Warren. You cleaned my wounds, bandaged me... all while six armed and 'crazy'," he said, making the finger quotes with the last word. "Then I fell asleep. When I woke up you were gone."

He sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't remember the fearlings or what'd happened, not really, until Pitch hit me with that fear powder stuff. I must've blocked it out."

That made sense. Aster nodded, and then sucked in a breath.

He hadn't hurt Jack.

Jack would have told him if he had, but he'd said that Aster - even during a berserk period - had taken care of him. That even at his worst, he'd been gentle and kind, seen Jack to shelter and given him care for his wounds.

He hadn't hurt Jack. Quite the opposite.

"Ack! Air, air! Bunny, I need air!"

He let up on the hug, but kept his face pressed against the crook of Jack's neck. Jack wrapped his arms around Aster's shoulder, and said nothing about the short fit. Only when Aster pulled back did he let go, shifting so his hands once more rested on the Pooka's shoulders.

"Feel better?" Jack asked.

Aster nodded. Oh, yes.

"Good." Jack's grin was a touch lopsided. "I don't like it when you're upset. Now." The grin turned into a wicked smirk. "I think we were doing something? Something very fun..." And he caught Aster's hand and lifted it to his chest.

Aster huffed a laugh, and nodded.

"Good." The boy looked seraphic and pleased. "You may continue, then."

With _pleasure_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll just have to imagine Pitch running around in terror being chased by a six armed rabbit. I felt Bunny's angst was more important - and besides, we only see what he remembers. He doesn't remember (alas) Pitch shrieking in terror. He wishes he did.


	12. Chapter Eleven - Jack's Interlude

Jack wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do more; spend all day curled up next to _his_ Bunny - his, his, all his! - being all smug and pleased and comfortable, or run around the world crowing about how he'd landed the Easter Bunny. Eat that, suckers, because Jack had the most desirable and eligible bachelor in the entire spirit world! And they couldn't touch but he could! Hah!

Going outside to strut won, but only because he didn't want Bunny to get tired of him or anything. Probably wouldn't happen, but why take the risk? Besides, with as much emotion churning in him - good emotion, but still - he kind of had to go out and blow off some steam.

And keep an eye on things among the other winter spirits. The others weren't very friendly, but they all tolerated him. Apparently he was 'less objectionable' than the entire rest of the spirit world. He wasn't sure if that was good for the ol' ego or not.

And he missed the kids, both those who believed in him and those who didn't. At the moment, he wasn't even too bothered about the kids who didn't believe. Why should he be bothered? He and Bunny were _together_ , in almost every sense of the word.

Jack was fairly certain that he'd stop wiggling and giggling with glee every time he thought about that, but he was also fairly certain it'd take a while.

So yeah, definitely taking himself off to wear out some of that manic glee. Was it the right time for snowball fights?

Whatever. Even if it was the middle of summer, there wasn't a kid Jack knew who'd turn down a snowball fight.

Actually, summer was probably a better time for snowball fights. No chance of getting too cold, and the snowballs would counter the heat stroke.

He headed towards Burgess, with only a few side trips to wave at oblivious people in somewhat famous landmarks. If his smile was somewhat wry on passing by Niagara Falls, well, he remembered the battlefield that had been there. Now it was a lot of tourist trap casinos and the like. He couldn't make up his mind on whether that was better, or worse.

Jack swooped down on his (not that he'd tell anyone) favorite town, more particularly a familiar neighborhood with a high concentration of children. They all seemed gathered in Cupcake's backyard today, which was kind of interesting. Normally, just because her backyard belonged to the entire apartment complex, they gathered other places, like Jamie's house, or the twins'. Pippa's was a favorite for the pool, especially during the warmer months.

"Hello, minions!" he called, and landed on one of the ornamental light posts in the garden, the kind that got staked into the dirt and did the solar powered thing. It didn't so much as shift under his weight, something he was quite proud of, thank you very much.

The kids looked up, and their welcome varied depending on their personalities. Cupcake was more reserved, just smiling and wiggling her fingers in a tiny wave. Pippa was more demonstrative, but still held back, keeping it to just a wide, beaming smile and a bit of bouncing up and down on her toes. The twins, Caleb and Claude, whooped and managed to call "Jack's back!" at the same time, creating an echo effect. Jamie actually danced a bit, but it was Monty who was the most demonstrative.

The kid glomped Jack with all the strength in his scrawny little body, which was enough to knock Jack off the light post, but otherwise did no damage.

"You've been gone forever," he said, the frame of his glasses digging through Jack's sweater and into his ribs. Not that Jack minded.

"Ah, not forever. Anyways, some of the neighbors were restless, I had to thump some heads."

Monty tightened his grip briefly, and then pulled away. As if that was a signal - and maybe it was, the other kids knew Monty's dad was... unavailable, and he was desperate for masculine approval - the other kids moved close.

"What do you mean?" Jamie asked, doing his best to give Jack a penetrating look. It probably would've been better if he knew what a penetrating look, well, _looked_ like. At the moment he was just squinting a lot.

"Someone tried to cause trouble for Bunny on Easter," he hedged. "Took a while to explain just why that was a bad idea."

Cupcake smirked. "Were you being a cowboy cop, Jack?"

He looked innocent as only he could. "More like Bunny was, and I was enjoying the show. So, what've you lot been up to?"

The twins smirked at him. "Well," Claude said, and then Caleb spoke up, "we were just looking-"

"-Into your media career-"

"-Of photo bombing."

Jack looked back and forth between the twins, more than a bit bemused. "Have you been reading Harry Potter again?" he finally asked. "And how long'd it take for you to get the twin speak down?"

They beamed at him. "We'll never tell," they said, once more in stereo.

Pippa rolled her eyes. "They've been doing this all week," she confided. "Mrs. Greyson finally gave them detention for it."

"And of course it only encouraged them," Jack said dryly. "What's this about me photo bombing? And what's photo bombing?"

The kids drew him over to where they'd been sitting, with a wide variety of photo albums and a couple tablets, and quickly explained. Of course, first they had to explain photos, which had sent most of them into hysterical laughter, while Jamie did his best to interrogate Jack as to just how he'd missed that particular development.

"And I know you know about cameras, you've mentioned wanting them before!" The boy stood with his arms akimbo, looking frustrated.

"Well, yeah. They're the big blocky things people watch actors with," Jack said.

Jamie did a lovely face-palm. "Those are video cameras. Picture cameras are different. Smaller. They take still photographs. Like this." He picked up a tablet and showed Jack the image on screen.

"Oh. That looks like a painting," Jack admitted. "A really good one."

"No Jack," Pippa said, with more patience than Jamie was showing. At the moment, since Jamie was doing a good impression of an angry goldfish, that wasn't hard. "It's a photograph. Still image. How did you think they made movies?"

He shrugged, and sat down. "Magic?"

She pulled up an internet web-page, something called wikipedia. "Here. Read this, it'll give you a good overview."

It was a good thing he could speed read. Jack handed the tablet back after a few minutes. "I've got to get Cottontail addicted to this photography thing," he said. "So. I photo bombed?"

The kids all grinned at him at that. And then started pointing at different pictures in the albums.

As it turned out, all unknowingly, Jack had managed to get photographed in... a lot of historical photos. Like, most of them, apparently. Since he was invisible to most people, still, it didn't really matter, but the kids had been quite surprised when they'd started doing research on a school project, and saw a familiar winter spirit in the backgrounds.

Mostly, it seemed Jack hadn't been aware of the photographs being taken. Mostly, he was looking away from the camera, blurry and out of focus. And since most of the photos were older than color, it was hard to tell it was Jack, sometimes.

Except for the flying. That was kind of a dead giveaway.

"Which means," Monty said, when they finished showing Jack the pictures, "You can tell us a lot about stuff during the Alaskan gold rush!"

Jack looked at the kids, a minute each. They stared expectantly at him.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, guys? What makes you think I paid attention?"

Their faces fell.

"Hey, look, no... Um, tell you what. Next time something comes up about the Puritans, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "Puritans were boring. They wore weird black and white clothes all the time, with buckles, and they hated sex."

He made a face. "Uh, no. We most certainly did not, to any of that. Bright clothes. All the bright clothes. And no buckles, except maybe on a belt if you wanted to be fancy. And sex..." He blushed, and scratched the bridge of his nose. "Anyways, I'll tell you the real story, not that hogswallop Thanksgiving nonsense."

The kids looked confused, but also interested. Jack figured there'd be a 'school report' on pilgrims later on. They might even remember to ask while school was still in session.

"Anyways," he said, with real regret. "I'd better get going. There will be parents calling for dinner any time now."

"It's like you have a sixth sense about it," Cupcake said. She started gathering up the photo albums. And then, as if cued by some phenomenal cosmic power, her mother leaned out of the apartment window to call their names.

Jack smiled, and didn't mention that he'd seen Cupcake's mom check on the kids five times in the last three minutes. It was nice to be thought of as omnipotent.

He flew off, after promising to be back soon and visit, and headed north. There were migrating whales to keep an eye on. They'd somehow gotten close to the glaciers calving off Greenland. Usually they stayed closer to Baffin Island instead, but sometimes these things happened. It was weird, and he wanted to make sure none of the glaciers fell on the whales, but otherwise still pretty normal.

Jack hadn't told anyone about his little hobby of watching the whales migrating from up north to down south - or in the opposite direction, of course - and still wasn't sure why. Bunny, certainly, had a right to know. Jack could tell him all about watching a mother with a nursing calf, about the giant sperm whales covered in scars from squid and sharks, about spotted dolphins playing around boats and cruise ships. He was pretty sure Bunny would get it, too; not just the wonder in watching such graceful creatures, but the laughter and joy that came from seeing them.

As for his reticence... He made a face. It was probably the three centuries he'd spent alone. Not that he blamed the others for it! Well. Mostly not.

Okay, so he blamed North quite a bit more than he blamed the others, which still wasn't a lot, but... North had known about him. Jack Frost, head of the naughty list for _years_. Who'd been trying to break into the Workshop so often he'd made friends with some of the yeti, or at least cautious non-enemy relationships. North, at least, had known about Jack, enough to know he was a kid - by definition of the nice and naughty lists, which had probably more to do with his lack of human memory than age - and alone.

So yeah, there was some blame on North's head. But Jack was doing his best not to freak out about that. What was it Rafiki in The Lion King had said? The past could hurt, but it was in the past. You could either run from it, or learn from it.

Jack was over and done with running from things. He'd rather learn from them... and hide behind Bunny if it was something nasty, like the fearlings.

Which was perfectly reasonable. And Bunny needed to stop making those faces when Jack mentioned fearling hunting, because that was just hilarious to watch.

And the cuddles were pretty good, too.

He amused himself with a few memories of said cuddles - and it was really, really nice to _finally_ know what had _actually_ happened on Easter of '68 - as he flew. Okay, so remembering how the fearlings had attacked him, delighting in his terror, that part wasn't so fun. But the way Bunny had tore onto the scene like Godzilla or something, that was an _awesome_ memory.

The fact that Bunny picking him up and cuddling him, caring for his wounds, was the first time someone had actually touched him kindly - instead of absently shoving him to the side, or throwing a punch - was _entirely_ immaterial.

Okay, mostly immaterial. It _mattered_ , but...

Jack peered down at the passing scenery, which was turning more and more coastal and wild. This part of the continent - he was well into Canada now - was sparsely populated. The general rule of thumb for the coast was fishing over farming, from what he'd seen and experienced, and the farms tended to be smaller than what was in the center part of the continent. And then, with an abrupt finality that somehow always surprised him, the terrain switched from, well, _terrain_ , to ocean stretching out to the horizon.

He flew a little higher, and took great, deep breaths of the ocean air. Even up here it was flavored heavily with salt and a tang he recognized as fish - living fish and dead fish, tiny fish that ate plankton and giant fish like the biggest of whale sharks - and grinned. Oh, he loved his forests and plains and even the glaciers, but he adored the ocean.

In small, infrequent doses. Nice break from the land.

Jack laughed at himself, all the way to Greenland.

Once there, he dropped down to the glacier near Sisimut, the tiny, tiny settlement that straddled one of the many fjords. It was on the southern side of the Davis Strait, and there were some glaciers only a little further north that were threatening the migrating whales.

Again, he had to wonder what had drawn them along here, instead of more west, but whatever.

There were several out-hanging glaciers, bigger than most four-plexes. Or _tanker ships_. And most of them looked ready to drop into the ocean at a light breeze, never mind a good excuse. There weren't any crazy people hanging around, waiting to surf off the inevitable tidal wave when the ice fell into the ocean, but that was probably just luck.

Seriously, this new fad for extremely dangerous sports - sports that were already dangerous - was starting to get on his nerves.

Next person to out-ski an avalanche only to go cliff diving (and parachuting) was going to be taken for a ride. To Hawaii. Courtesy of Annoyed Jack Travels.

He flew down, and hovered near the biggest of the glaciers. After a bit of thought, he extended his staff and touched the crook to the ice. He half-closed his eyes, and then made a twisting, wrenching gesture that cracked the ice at the base of the glacier, breaking it free.

Jack shot upwards the moment he had, and he just barely escaped the giant wave of water that shot up and out from the impact. He panted, and watched the spreading waves. Well, that was one... now for the rest of the coast.

He looked up and down the line of glaciers, and almost groaned. It was going to be a _long_ day. A long several days, at this rate.

So he'd better get started.

* * *

He woke slowly, aware of something wrong, but unable to place _what_. Maybe the noise. Everything was so _loud_. He could hear the field mice down below amongst the leaves; the stiff-cloth rustle of a bird settling its feathers; the distant hum of the first cars out on the roads for the day.

Jack opened his eyes, but everything was so blurry he might as well have kept them closed. Had taking care of those glaciers exhausted him _this_ much? Now he was sorry he hadn't gone to the Warren. But always before he'd dozed in a tree or something, and he hadn't thought of any reason not to do the same this time, and it always took a little to work his way into the Warren...

He blinked, but the blurriness didn't go away. He tried to push himself up - and couldn't.

He squeaked.

And it wasn't _his_ voice.

Jack knew he was hyperventilating, but the knowledge was quickly buried in panic. He couldn't move. His arms and legs - and he couldn't see -

And then a robin started screaming at him.

Jack couldn't help it. He started to cry, tiny, squeaky mewls that he could barely hear over his pounding heart and the angry robin.

The wind swirled around the tree, getting stronger and stronger, before taking off.

Leaving him alone, helpless, and afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a Jack POV. And people were wondering just how Kitty Jack was going to come about... -sly grin-


	13. Chapter Twelve - Surprises

Aster looked up at the first rush of wind, smiling fondly. How could he not? Jack was here. Jack, his boyfriend, was going to prance up to him any moment now, and curl up close for 'cuddles'. And how could he possibly argue with that?

There was nothing quite so good as finding out that one wasn't a monster. Or something like that. He had probably mangled the quote far more than mere translation from his adopted clan's tongue to English warranted. Laysh would have been disappointed in him. Claek would have cuffed him upside the head... if she was feeling nice.

He shook his head, and looked around for Jack. The wind blew harder, swirling around him like a good-natured whirly-whirly, but the winter spirit was nowhere to be seen.

"Jack?" he called, and slapped at the air when the wind shoved at him. Then he immediately felt stupid for doing so; the wind wasn't something a bloke could touch, no matter how Jack flew on it. That was Jack.

The wind continued to shove at him, somehow always from the back, and it was strong enough he actually stumbled forward a few steps.

"Oh, that does it," Aster muttered, and began stomping forward. Wherever Jack had hidden away, he'd just have to haul him out into the open and explain that no, setting a deranged windstorm loose in the Warren was not on.

If he could _find_ Jack.

He tried heading towards the far sides of the Warren, only to be shoved back by the wind. It kept - kept _herding_ him, of all things, towards the tunnels outside.

Finally, he just gave in. There was no point in fighting, and it occurred to him that the wind was only this personable when Jack was around. If the wind wanted him to go towards the tunnels outside, that was likely where Jack was.

And what if Jack was hurt? Aster paused half a step, and then dropped to all fours and ran at speed to the tunnels. The wind seemed pleased with that, if the lack of obvious shoving meant anything.

He reached the tunnel entrances, and looked around. Jack wasn't in any of them, not even a ways up and around a bend. He sat back on his haunches, only to nearly get bowled over by another gust.

"What?" he snapped, and scowled. The wind near about yanked his ears off, it felt like, and in the direction of the North American tunnels.

He paused, despite the wind's shoving, considering the situation. The wind was either being directed, or trying to direct him somewhere. Jack was, strangely enough, not with the wind - and to the best of Aster's knowledge, his... boyfriend... wasn't able to control the air currents at a distance. Which meant, obviously, that something strange was going on here.

What would be the harm in doing what the wind seemed to want him to do? Go through his tunnels to somewhere in North America?

There were other spirits capable of controlling air. One of them could have been working to trick him into an ambush or trap of some sort. Of course, it was always possible that _if_ another air spirit was trying to get his attention, it was for more benign means, but paranoia had kept him alive this long. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, leave the tunnels with weapons at the ready...

And if it was Jack who'd sent the wind, somehow... Either he was being fetched (like a dog, Jack would say, with that cute little curl to his upper lip) or being called because Jack was in trouble.

So. Aster looked over the options, and nodded to himself. Near as he could figure, he'd covered the main angles. Everything else would be a variant on those options he'd already thought of. Whether Jack was summoning him or in trouble, or if it was someone else summoning him for a talk or an attack, he'd go out with his weapons and instincts at the ready.

He started up the North American tunnel, slower than the wind would have liked. It continued to shove at his tail, something that got more aggravating and more awkward with every bound. Aster ignored it as best he could, but... still.

The wind's nudging took him through the permanent tunnels to the Canadian Shield, nearly as far east as it was possible to go and still be above water. He wasn't sure just what this particular part of the country was called - though he did, thankfully, know it was Canada, and just where Canada ended... mostly - because there were several names in the area, only some of which were in English or French. At some point Jack would likely get tired of his lack of knowledge and teach him the modern territories and boundary lines, but humans had never been quite as rabid as Aster's people about such things.

Compared to the Pooka clan he'd grown up with, humans were quite cheerful to give up their territory to their neighbors. It was all very strange.

He paused, opening his tunnel to the surface and waiting for a count of five, before leaping up and out, landing upright with a boomerang in one hand, and an egg grenade in the other.

Nothing. Except for an increase in the wind, which threatened to knock him off his feet. Aster growled, and put away the grenade. He kept the boomerang out, though. Never knew when having one available would be useful, and not only for fighting.

Well. Sometimes not only for fighting. Intimidation wasn't fighting.

The wind made a visible path through the sparse forest - this part of the Shield seemed to be near enough to the ocean that millennia upon millennia of salt spray had poisoned the ground, so to speak - tearing branches from trees and scouring the ground clear of fallen leaves and old needles. Aster followed, doing what little he could to heal the damage. Not much, just a spark of green energy to encourage the trees to form a scar over the raw wounds faster than they normally could. More wasn't really needed. Anything growing here was hardy enough to survive much worse.

And then the wind stopped, swirling around a particular oak tree. Aster began circling it - it was a giant in this forest, fully seven, even eight feet in diameter, reaching up at least two stories and possibly more - when he saw Jack's staff.

It was just... lying there, in a way that wouldn't happen if Jack was concussed, unconscious, or drunk. Aster had seen it before; the staff was more like an extension of Jack's arm - or leg, depending on if he was holding onto it with hand or foot - and he was just as likely to forget his staff as forget his head.

He picked it up, his hands shaking, and looked it over. The wood looked much as it always did; a little rough at the ends, where Jack didn't handle it as much, and smooth as silk in the middle. There wasn't any frost, but then, that was only caused by contact with Jack.

The staff was here. So where was Jack?

The wind seemed to try to get under him and lift, but then gave up when he proved too solid to move. Or at least, that was his interpretation. It was _air_. How was he supposed to tell?

"Stop that," he snapped, and looked around. Tracks maybe. Or scent; he could follow a scent trail better than a few odd scuffs on the ground that were supposedly footprints. He circled the tree a second time, and absently tucked the staff under his bandolier at the back, so it lay along his spine. Easier to carry, that way.

Nothing. Not a scent, not a scuff on the ground. If there'd been any marks, the wind must have scoured them away. Scent too. Either that or Jack had flew, or whatever had attacked him had flown, or -

He lifted his head, and looked around.

Whatever it was made the sound again.

Aster told himself that it could have been a bird. Or some small, squeaky mammal critter in the underbrush. A wolf pup. A human child. Or he wasn't hearing things right. Besides, he had to find Jack. That was more important than finding the source of - of a sound that he _couldn't_ have heard.

And then he heard the sound a third time, and Aster's hearts promptly sped up to triple normal speed.

He hadn't heard the sound in... crikey, longer than he cared to think about, especially now that he was paired off with a bloody _infant_ in comparison. Not since... Vargrassen, his youngest nephew. Pooka kits all sounded the same, at least until they hit a year old and started coming into clan traits.

There was a Pooka kit about.

Aster clenched his teeth, and started moving around, trying to triangulate the noise. The wind didn't help, but at least it died down into a quiet zephyr when he snapped at it again. Strangely enough, it seemed the source was up a tree, which... didn't make any sense.

At least not until he looked up. At which point he smiled, a touch grimly. The branches spread out at a central point, forming what looked like, from the ground, a sheltered little nook just big enough for a large bird's nest.

His hearts' rate calmed. Either there was a Pooka kit up there - and it hurt to hope, and was impractical besides - or someone had managed a trap.

Aster smiled, a lot more grimly this time. The best way to deal with a trap, in the words of his one brother Vargtalen, was to spring it.

He started climbing the tree.

Surprisingly enough, no one attacked him while his back was to the world.

Because it wasn't a trap. There really was a Pooka kit, no bigger than one of his hands, sprawled out in the crook of tree branches.

Aster was so surprised he fell out of the tree.

* * *

The kitten had settled down once Aster got a little goat's milk mixed with honey in its - at this age, just as it was highly difficult to tell what clan a Pooka was born to, it was almost impossible to tell gender - stomach. Between the food and the warmth, the kitten was content to drowse on the rough nest made out of Aster's dishcloths.

Clean ones. He'd washed them, and set a few on fire when he'd hung them to dry over the fireplace.

The kitten was a little bigger than Aster had first estimated - instead of being only seven inches from nose to tail, the kitten was more like eight - and was covered in baby-soft, pure white fur. The kitten still hadn't opened its eyes, which suggested something like six to eight weeks of age. At that point, kittens had fur, but no sight. After eight weeks they started trying to see things, and by ten they were testing their mobility, or lack of it.

This one seemed to have decided to try skipping a few steps, at least if the amount of squirming it got up to during feeding meant anything.

Aster rested his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands, and studied the kitten. And then thought about Jack, missing, his staff dropped on the ground under the tree where he'd found the kitten. And the wind's strange sentience without Jack about.

And then he promptly - gently - shifted the nest of dishcloths aside, so he had room to bang his forehead into the table.

It felt so good he had to do it a few more times.

Bloody. Buggering. Hell.

How had this even _happened_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -sly grin- Hey there, Kitty Jack!


	14. Chapter Thirteen - Christmas Derangement

North grabbed hold of Aster's ear, and tried jamming one of those mercury thermometers in it. Aster managed to pull away, though his ear hurt.

"What d'ya think you're doing, wanker?" he snapped.

"Language." North jerked his head to the side, where several yeti - presumably female by their better grooming - were cooing over Jack. "And am checking to see if you have fever."

" _One_ ," Aster snapped, "that thermometer is meant to go in the _mouth_ , not the ear. Two, I don't have a fever. And three, that _really is_ Jack!"

"Jack is five-foot nothing teenage boy. Human, more or less. Not five pound little fluff ball."

Aster waved him off. "Shapeshifting magic," he snapped.

North stopped trying to grab his ear again, and looked thoughtful. "Oh? Yes, that is possible. Hm..." He turned and tucked the thermometer behind his ear. "Let me just check something."

He was not sneering. Really. And he didn't snatch Jack - oh strewth Jack was a six week old Pooka kit now - away from the yeti.

Aster checked on Jack, who seemed fine but who could tell? He kept squirming about meeping. It was a thousand times more endearing than when Vargrassen had been that age, and he realized he was smiling about the same time as he noticed the camera flash.

When he looked up, Sandy beamed at him. And then asked who was the mother.

"Wha - this is Jack you gumby!"

Sandy looked doubtful. Aster flipped him off.

"'M betting it's a spell," he said, and adjusted the blanket. Which had begun life as a towel, but it was a blanket now and it would just have to get used to it. Halfway through his explanation he realized he was actually saying all of that out loud to Sandy.

"Maybe the coffee was a mistake," he admitted.

Sandy nodded, like he understood.

Aster wasn't sure he did, because since when had Sandy ever had coffee? Or a suddenly de-aged boyfriend that'd switched species? He adjusted Jack's blanket again. "The wind shoved me out to get him," he said. "I found Jack's staff under the tree he was in, and then Jack was right there as a baby, and who else could it be?"

Sandy wrinkled his nose, like he had to concentrate to figure out what Aster had said, and then nodded. According to the flashing pictures, he said 'it makes sense'.

"Of course it does. I've only been debating with myself all night over it." Over many, many cups of coffee.

Probably coffee. You were supposed to grind it up before boiling it, right?

He never had seen why people had switched from tea, which was a perfectly reasonable drink that came in many flavors and wasn't caustic enough to take one's tongue off, to coffee, which made his corneas bounce independently. Possibly that was hyperbole but he wasn't certain.

Sandy patted him on the shoulder.

"You're horrible at being sympathetic."

Sandy nodded again, and pointed towards the hallway. Then he suggested Aster get some sleep.

"Who'll watch Jack?"

Sandy grinned, and showed an image of Aster curled up around Jack in his nest of blankets.

"Yeah," Aster agreed. "That sounds okay." He was pretty tired.

* * *

"So!" North boomed, slamming the door open and scaring Aster off the bed and onto the floor.

He stayed put, hearts pounding, Jack squeaking, tail sending pain up through his spine. North stepped around the bed and peered down at him. "I think you are a little high strung, my friend."

"I think you need to learn how to knock." He got up. He made North give him a hand.

The closet door creaked. And the odd frilly thing hiding the bed legs shifted back and forth.

Aster frowned, and then ducked to look under the bed. Two elves grinned back at him.

"North?" He pointed. "Elves."

"Ah?" North shrugged. "And?"

"Should I be worried?"

"Not really. They are only curious."

Aster picked Jack up, who calmed down immediately, and hurried out of the room. Curious elves played with electricity and power tools.

The workshop was strangely silent. North led the way straight through, seemingly oblivious to the pile of half-painted toys, the table covered in the guts of various electronics. Kites and planes didn't fly overhead - a relief, Aster told himself, and kept his ears down just in case - and toy robots didn't march around underfoot. There weren't any yeti, but there were elves _everywhere_.

He twitched, and held Jack a little tighter. There were elves poking at half-finished toys. Elves with hammers and saws and handfuls of nails. Elves frozen mid-step, coils of wire and Christmas lights in their arms. Elves paying them no attention and elves that followed them, eyes shifting and heads not moving.

"North, what -?"

"I have plan," North said. "We must first be certain that this is, in fact, Jack. I believe you believe is Jack, but is always good to be sure. Then we must find out what happened, and who caused it, and why. Only then can we restore our friend."

That sounded good. Aster wrinkled his nose, but nodded. "Sure, fine. But -?"

"Don't worry. I have spent all afternoon preparing things. Everything will go fine." North paused, and patted his stomach. "I can feel it in my belly."

"Preparing things?" he asked, and checked Jack. The little sprog was sleeping, little ear-flaps folded over, tiny paws all curled up under his chin. It was really too cute for words, and Aster fought down the urge to coo. For one thing, this was Jack, ultimately; three hundred years old, physically seventeen forever and always, who spent most of his time being cocky and doing his best to drive Aster insane. In the best of ways, now, but before it'd just been insane, complete with handfuls of fur ripped out and twitching eyes.

For another, he was the last survivor of the Pookan race, a hardened warrior who'd grown up with Laysh and Claek, of all people. He did not _coo_.

No one would ever let him live it down.

But Jack really was adorable like this...

North was smiling at him, the bastard. Aster scowled, and pointed a finger at North's nose. "Not. One. Word."

"Feeling paternal?" North asked.

Maybe. A little. "Not likely to happen." He tweaked the blanket a touch. "It... I... My shapeshifting's fucked up. And. For crossbreeding, the mother has to be able to shapeshift, and I... can't."

Throwback, Laysh had called it. Legend had it the first Pooka Leporid, the children of the Pooka Octobracchium and the Pooka Lepusculus, had been like this. Him. Stuck with a binary gender, unable to shift from buck to doe. Unable to change his height, his weight, his species, not even the color of his eyes or fur. _Stuck_ was the word. He either looked like a normal Pooka Leporid - alright, a little shorter, a little stockier, definitely stronger though that could've just been how he'd grown up - or he looked like the Pooka Octobracchium had, eight limbs total, massive in size, and mad with bloodlust.

And a cuddle monster, if Jack could be believed.

"You have not had girlfriends before?" North asked.

Aster snorted. "The _mother_ needs to be able to shapeshift, North. Never was interested in any of the shapeshifters, and the ones who were interested in me were..." No one he'd wanted to chat with, let alone have children with.

And now he had Jack. Who was human. Aster didn't regret that, didn't really _care_ anymore. If they wanted children, they could always go the Fae route and steal - save - the unwanted, the abused, the alone.

Just. Having a Pooka kitten in his arms. It was... hard.

North clapped him on the shoulder. "I cannot say I understand," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "But you have my sympathy."

No one ever _understood_. That was what being the last _meant_. But he couldn't say that. Instead, he raised one eyebrow and snarked, "Thanks, North. Just what I wanted for Christmas."

North paused again, and then shook his head. "That... seems an odd wish for Christmas, but I will keep it in mind. Now, come. Yeti will not wait forever. So impatient!"

"Yeti?"

The idiot Cossack didn't answer, beyond chuckling and walking faster, so Aster had to hurry to keep up.

North slammed open a set of double doors, which - Aster had a sudden thought that North's workshop kept changing layout at the toymaker's will, explaining why it was impossible to remember what hallway led where - opened onto a large, empty room. The floor was highly polished wood, while the walls had been papered in something baroque, though there were so many velvet tapestries that it was hard to tell what the pattern was supposed to be.

If there had been any furniture in the room, it'd been removed, to make space for the chalked markings all over the floor. There were circles. There were Russian letters - Cyrillic or Celiac or whatever they were called - and more circles that linked with other circles to form another circle with the way they merged and flowed into each other.

The missing yeti were in the room, dressed in flowing robes that bore equal parts resemblance to what the current media thought of Greek togas, and bedsheets. One of the yeti's robes were covered in pale blue and violet flowers.

"A divination?" Aster pinched the bridge of his nose. "North, we don't need a full divination! Just a quick read to make sure this really is Jack!"

"It will be simplest," North said. "This way we will get answers to all of the questions. A simple diagnosis will only say if it is Jack or not."

"You just want to pull out the bells and whistles."

A yeti yowled at them, sounding impatient. Aster flipped it off without looking.

"Don't be like that," North said to Aster. Then he turned to the yeti and spouted off a rapid-fire babble of Russian. He turned back to Aster. "As I said, this will be simplest in long run."

Well. Maybe. Aster looked down at Jack again. The kit had woken up, and was trying to open his eyes. At least, that was what Aster assumed the faces meant, and the squirming. Maybe Jack had gas. "Now hold on, you little wriggler," he muttered, and started unwrapping the blanket to take a better look.

In retrospect, they really should have closed the doors.

An elf blurred past, squealing and waving a hammer. A second elf chased after the first, armed with what looked like a bandsaw. A third, trailing Christmas lights, continually tripped after them, never quite falling.

North caught the third elf, but the first two were in the room and causing havoc.

The yeti reverted to training, and they all tried to catch the elves before blood could be drawn. The yeti had not factored in the makeshift togas.

Aster covered his eyes with one hand, and groaned. "North?" he said, when the horrific sounds had mostly died away. Instead of yowling and yelling, the yeti were merely grumbling.

"Yes, Bunny?" North asked, sounding utterly dispirited.

"I've said it before. But I'll say it again. The elves are a _menace_."

North sighed. "I find I must agree with you."

Jack chose that moment to hiccup, then spit up all over himself, the blanket, and Aster's chest.

* * *

"And the diagnosis spell says?" Aster dabbed at his fur. Which wasn't necessary, after the sluicing down he'd given himself and Jack - it was rather sad that the first time they showered together, it was in North's infirmary, North was watching, and _Jack was an infant_ \- but he couldn't quite stop himself.

"This is Jack," North said. Aster turned in time to see him make an absurd face at Jack, who giggled.

Jack's eyes were open, tiny little slits of bright blue. But open.

"He's a bit young for that," Aster said, and pointed at said open eyes when North looked up.

"Oh. Spell says he is aging. Tried it three times. Each time spell read him older than first."

Well. Alright then. "So it could wear off on its own," Aster said. "Doesn't explain why he's a Pooka kitten."

"Diagnosis spell doesn't say either," North said. He paused long enough to make a new absurd face. Jack giggled, and wiggled, and showed no sign of wanting to puke. "Divination spell would have, but you let elves into room."

" _I_ let them in?" he repeated. " _Excuse_ me? What'd you just say?"

"Well, it is not like you have to deal with elves day in and day out." North scooped up Jack in one arm, the kitten practically disappearing thanks to the Russian's bulk, and wiggled his fingers in Jack's face. "Well aren't you so very adorable, мой маленький котенок?"

Aster opened his mouth to warn North, and then thought better of it. Instead, he folded his arms, leaned back, and waited.

Jack didn't make him wait long. Just seconds after North decided to be an idiot, the big man jumped and yelped.

"My fingers!"

"Oh," Aster said, as if he'd only just thought about it. "Pooka kittens bite. So you know."

North gave him Jack, and glowered. "I will need to do research. You are not required. Goodbye, Bunny."

He couldn't help but chuckle all the way to the cellar, where he could open a tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why Aster doesn't like North very much. Good friend, but ye gods is North kind of a super-focused ditz. With elves. And yeti. And elves driving the yeti mad. Also, coffee gives Aster trouble, poor thing. -amused-
> 
> Also-also - I AM ON VACATION now would the supersonic jet please stop flying over my house? Why do we even HAVE one of those? Tiny airport doesn't need a supersonic jet okay thank you go away now bye. -twitch-


	15. Chapter Fourteen - Never Grow Up

It'd been three days, and Jack looked the equivalent of a three month old kitten. He acted it too; Aster had fished him out of more improbable places than he'd known were in his home, child-proofing as he went. So far everything he'd done to keep Jack out of the space under his oven hadn't worked.

Jack also wasn't showing much in way of intelligence yet, appearing as airheaded as the scrabble-race brat he looked like. Aster did his best to talk to Jack like he was an adult, though. Who knew if the winter spirit's mind was still there behind those innocent blue eyes?

The rapid aging had apparently slowed for the moment; it'd been all morning, and Jack hadn't appeared to get any older. He had gotten messier; smearing half of his breakfast all over his face and chest (and arms, shoulders, thighs, and _back_ somehow...) and then ending up under the oven _again_ and getting covered in dust... again...

Well, bathtime, Aster decided. He pulled Jack out from under the oven, and ignored Jack's aggrieved yowl. He wasn't hurt, that'd be a different tone, just annoyed. He avoided the clumsy claws and heartfelt biting, and cuddled the annoyed kitten up to his chest.

Jack settled down when Aster set to purring, and even chirped back.

The bathtub was too big for Jack - and, Aster thought, suddenly amused, probably too big when Jack was himself, human and grown. Lately he'd been bathing the kitten in the sink, which was big enough to hold the little monster but too shallow for Jack to drown in.

And he was horribly fascinated with the tap, so there was a built-in distraction.

He got the water running, a little warmer than room temperature but nothing like the near-boil he preferred for his own soaks. Jack yowled again, and began scrabbling his tiny paws at the air, trying to get closer. At least he liked his baths. Aster had helped bathe more than one nibling that'd hated getting wet, and there wasn't much that was harder than wrangling one determined kit. Especially not once the soap was on and the kit was slippery.

Jack started gnawing on the tap once the water was shut off, then slipped and fell backward into the water. He didn't go all the way under, what with the bowl being plenty shallow. Aster hummed in amusement, and got the soap.

"Are you teething?" he asked the kitten, and started working on that soft coat.

Jack left off his gnawing long enough to chirp, and then make a sound that was a little like a feline kitten's mewl. Aster raised one eyebrow, and carefully worked soap into the fur between Jack's eyes.

"A Felis, huh? Wonder why?" The Felis had never been a particularly numerous clan, not like the Leporid or even the Canim. One of the most valued, absolutely, but he doubted Jack had been... given, cursed with, he wasn't sure which it was... the one ability everyone had worshiped the Felis for.

Well, maybe the unbearable arrogance was Jack's, but not the rest of it.

Of course, that was supposing that Jack really was a Pooka Felis, or reasonable facsimile, and not something else. Just because Aster thought his mate had somehow been turned into a Pooka - and he really needed to figure out _how_ \- didn't mean anything. Jack could've been turned into a half-cat hybrid as well as an infant. Or some other alien species - even the... the... Oh, whatever the aliens had been, back when the Leporid had been crossing the lines to create the Felis. Not 'Leonids', he was pretty sure the Pooka hadn't ever run across anything with such a stupid name.

Even if that _was_ the name stuck in his head.

Aster scooped up handfuls of water, and poured it out over Jack's back, and then carefully over his head. The kitten delighted in the exercise, squealing and trying to grab the water caressing his face. He tilted backwards again, and flopped into the water. It sloshed up and over the rim of the sink, onto the counter and over onto the floor.

Aster couldn't bring himself to care.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, and carefully tickled Jack's belly. The kitten squealed, and grabbed at his hand. He tried to remind himself that the ball of soaked fluff, pink skin peeking through at the fingers, toes, muzzle, and belly, was _Jack_ \- but it was really, really hard. Long, _long_ dormant instincts, ones he'd purposefully suppressed after having dealt with his nieces and nephews, had woken with a vengeance. All he wanted to do was cuddle Jack up under his chin and purr.

And maybe groom some of that water out of Jack's fur with his tongue. Which was natural, right? Even if Jack was his boyfriend... Aster sighed, and rubbed his forehead with one wet hand. Water immediately began dripping down the side of his face.

So far, he'd managed to refrain from actually grooming Jack like he would another Pooka. How would - how _could_ \- he explain when Jack was restored back to himself.

Humans didn't lick each other all over as a form of cleanliness, after all. And Jack would be quite put out that the first time Aster dared do more than a bit of mostly-chaste groping would happen when he was an infant.

Aster chuckled at himself, and pulled the plug at the bottom of the sink. Jack rolled over onto his front, and pawed at the lowering water level, at least until Aster started the water running again. The kitten submitted to the bit of scrubbing necessary to get all the soap out of his fur, keeping up a kind of running 'commentary' the entire time, the squeaks and high pitched yowls blending with the sound of water and splashing.

Once Aster was satisfied, he wrapped Jack up in a clean, dry towel, one big enough that the kitten was utterly enveloped and struggling to get free. It kept Jack occupied just long enough for Aster to clean off his own throat and chest, where some dirt had transferred. When Jack popped his head back out into the open, he squealed with delight and promptly ducked back under cover, only to repeat the action all over again.

"Yes, yes, I see you," he said, and collected the whole bundle up into his arms. Jack made a tiny noise best described as 'murr', and grabbed hold of Aster's chest fur. "Don't you dare pull," he warned, and of course Jack pulled in response. "Little bugger."

It really shouldn't have surprised him to reach the kitchen, only to find Tooth waiting for him. It'd been three days, after all, and she was the only one with unlimited access to the Warren. Mostly because she didn't use it. He could only imagine, with horror, the chaos that'd result from North with unlimited access, or even Sandy, though at least the dreamweaver wouldn't be trying to spread Christmas Cheer in _July_.

"Oh, is that Jack? He's so cute!" Tooth hovered a bit higher, and smiled. "North figured out who's responsible!"

Two subjects in as many sentences - "Tooth, how much sleep have you had recently?" he asked, and set the Jack-bundle down on the table. "Or coffee. You know it doesn't do you any good."

"Very funny, Bunny," she said, and began cooing over Jack. He let her; it was very hard not to, at the moment, after all.

He started preparing a kettle for tea. "So who's responsible?"

Tooth finished "ooochie-ooo'ing" at Jack, and looked up. "Oh, some minor little glacier god. North looked into things, called in a few favours - apparently turning people into babies is something the god's known for, vaguely. _Really_ minor."

Aster raised his eyebrows. "Why would a glacier god turn people into babies?" he asked.

"To make it easier to track them down and eat them," Tooth said, wings buzzing like an angry wasp. "Apparently enough people have been rescued for it to be a known thing, but no one's ever bothered going after him for it."

"He probably can't do it to too many people," Aster pointed out, and frowned at Jack. "You'd think Jack would be strong enough to shrug it off..."

"Well..." Tooth stopped buzzing her wings, and shrugged. "The glacier in question isn't in North America, it's Greenland. And Jack..."

Right. Jack was strongest in North America.

"It's probably why it didn't take effect immediately, though," she said, after an awkward pause. "Since you found him in Quebec."

"Might've been Newfoundland," he offered. That was the right name, wasn't it? "Doesn't explain why he's turned into a Pooka kitten, though."

"I don't really have an answer for that," she admitted. "We're going to go beat him up and make him reverse the spell. With our luck, Jack got caught by two spells - one for youth and one for species."

"That'd be luck?" he asked, and added the loose leaf tea to the hot water. He wasn't going to be bothered with the 'proper' way of making tea at the moment.

Tooth snorted, and began cooing at Jack again. Aster let it go on for a few minutes, until she began crooning lines like "Who's a big boy then?" and "You're so cute Mr. Fluffy-wuffles!"

At that point, he turned away from the kettle, and smirked at her. "It's entirely possible he'll remember everything that's been happening while he's been stuck as a kitten."

Tooth paused mid-word, and cleared her throat. "Uh. Let's enter a pact where we don't mention this ever again."

Aster walked over to the table and checked on Jack. "Yes," he said. "Let's."

Jack blew a snot bubble, and gurgled happily.

* * *

"Bunny!" North flung the front door open the way he did at his Workshop, and the door promptly hit the wall and cracked in half. "Your home is very flimsy, I should lend you yeti. Good workmanship, bad attitudes."

He didn't look up from where he was feeding Jack applesauce. "Who let you in?"

"Hah hah, very funny. Tooth did, of course!"

Of course she did. "Why?" Aster asked, and set the spoon aside. Jack made grabby hands after it, and Aster couldn't quite help the utterly besotted expression.

"We have defeated the glacier god responsible for spell on Jack," North said. He sat down at the kitchen table, and beamed at the kitten. "He is adorable like this, no? But I am _sure_ you are looking forward to his being adult again." He leered at Aster.

"Have you got something in your eye, mate?"

"What?"

"You're squinting."

"You are being oblivious again, this is why it took months for Jack to snare you." North waved one hand in dismissal.

Aster frowned at him. "Jack didn't snare me," he said, aware that it was an outright lie and not caring one whit. "I snared him."

"Very funny," North said. "Tooth and Sandy are breaking spell circle now, so Jack should begin aging very quickly. We thought you should have warning."

"And what's the glacier god think of all this?" he asked, looking down at Jack. Was he already a little bigger than he was before?

North smirked behind his prodigious beard and moustache. "As I said, Bunny. We have defeated glacier god. He will no longer be turning anyone into babies to eat them." He reached over and carefully stroked between Jack's ears. "Why wouldn't anyone tell us?"

Aster shrugged, and swatted North's hand away. "Dunno. Lots of spirits don't tell us anything. Probably means something, yeah?"

"It means you are too much the hermit," North said. "Me, everyone loves Santa."

"Excuse me?" Aster scowled, and jabbed one finger at the giant idiot's nose. "Loves _you_? You need a new sense of humour."

If Jack hadn't started to glow at that point, North probably would've come up with a counter. Instead, they both tabled the conversation, and watched as the kitten began to glow, grow, and wail.

"Perhaps he should be moved to the floor," North suggested, when Jack had tripled in size. And was still growing. Aster did his best to squint against the light and see details. Did the winter spirit still have fur?

"Why?" he asked.

"Because table is small and easily broken."

"Jack is small and lightweight." And he wasn't putting his hands in that glow for anything. North could. He'd probably lose them both at the wrist.

North leaned back in his seat. "You have the staff, yes?"

Of course he had Jack's staff. Aster barely dignified that idiocy with a scornful look, never mind an answer. North held up both hands as though in surrender, but it was spoiled by his grin.

"Has Jack tried to get his staff?"

"Surprisingly," Aster said, not looking away from where his boyfriend was aging years in seconds. "No. He was more interested in eating his own feet. Or something." Why _did_ infants keep trying to chew on their own toes, anyways?

The bright glow surrounding Jack pulsed once, and then ended. Not that it much mattered, because Aster couldn't see for having been _blinded_. Stupid magic.

"Whoa," Jack said, sounding a touch concussed. "'M I upside down? I _am_ , this is... unexpected. And who's stomach am I looking at?"

Aster started blinking away the dancing, glowing spots plaguing his vision. "Mine," he said, once he was able to get a general idea of things. Jack's head was at his end of the table, and his feet were in North's lap. Jack was also still, strangely enough, a Pooka Felis. Or looking very much like one. It wasn't like he could see details.

"You have an awesome stomach," Jack said, and then he blew a chilly breath that parted Aster's fur and made him jump. "I wanna lick it."

North cleared his throat, and pushed away from the table. "I don't think I should be here for this."

"You shouldn't be here at all," Aster pointed out. He gave his eyes one last scrub, blinked, and looked at Jack.

And all his blood promptly left his head and pooled in his groin.

"Well," he managed, aware of how strangled he sounded and not caring one whit. "You make a lovely cat, mate."

Jack grinned, the very large and very feline incisors doing funny things to Aster's gut. Funny, attracted things. "That's always good to hear. Why'm I a cat?"

North shook his head. "Definitely leaving. We will have meeting... tomorrow afternoon, hm? You two have much to talk about. I will not need seen out."

Aster nodded, and reached forward to tangle his fingers in Jack's chest fur. "Yeah," he said. "Meeting. Tomorrow. Bye, North."

Jack laughed, and began to purr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, chapter title says 'Never Grow Up' but if you will recall, growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional, and we ALL know where Jack stands. See how cute baby Jack was? Now imagine how, erm... Cat-Jack, you're supposed to be adorable to seduce Aster to bed. That is not adorable, that is derp. You are a derp. -sigh-


	16. Chapter Fifteen - Lay All Your Love On Me - or not...

"So, you're telling me I was a baby for a couple days?" Jack twitched his tail - and then promptly started turning in a circle, again, trying to stare at his own arse. "That is so weird..."

"Stop that, you're making me dizzy," Aster complained.

"And I'm the one spinning," Jack said. He stopped trying to look at his tail, and stepped close to Aster, who did his best to ignore the proximity. " _Bunny_... I'm bored."

Aster hunched his shoulders. "Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked. "Nothing stopping you from going out. I gave you back your staff, after all."

The winter spirit - currently Pooka Felis in apparently every way, including scent - pressed up against his back. "Mmm, but you're here," Jack pointed out. One hand rested on Aster's hip, fingers flexing as his claws extended and retracted, the tips barely pressing through Aster's fur to the skin. His other arm wrapped around the Pooka's front, preventing Aster from pulling away.

Not that he wanted to... Though he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt over his reaction to Jack's antics. It wasn't even the usual twinge from being with someone so much younger than he was - physically, since Jack had been persuasive enough he no longer worried about the chronological. It was just...

He did _not_ prefer Jack with fur! Sure, having his mate covered, head to toe, in a plush, velvety coat of white fluff was wonderful, and the way those ears twitched made him want to take one in his mouth and _bite_ it. Jack's tail was constantly twitching, ensuring the muscles in Jack's lower back flexed along in time, emphasizing the way his arse currently looked, clad in nothing but fur. And those whiskers, white and nearly invisible, they were just so -!

Jack must have gotten tired of his mental flailing and physical silence, because he bit Aster.

On the side of the neck.

With _very_ sharp teeth.

Aster used words that weren't normally associated with one's paramour, and pulled away. He managed to cross the kitchen in a bound, and spun to face the winter spirit. He pressed one hand to his neck, where Jack had _bit him_ , and checked for blood. Lucky for Jack, there wasn't any.

"What the hell!"

Jack grinned, and hopped up on the counter. Aster decided not to mention that Jack's tail was now in dangerous proximity to the sink, currently full of water and waiting for dishes. Jack had bit him, after all.

"I've been wanting to do that for ages," Jack admitted, and tilted his head back a touch. He made a very nice picture, a very nice picture indeed, and Aster found himself warring with several conflicting desires. He wanted to draw - or better, paint - that picture Jack made. He wanted to yell at Jack over the biting. He wanted to pull Jack into his arms, press him down onto the floor, and - well. They hadn't actually gone beyond a bit of necking yet, so thinking that sort of thing was just a touch premature.

Delightful, yes, but only during the odd private moment when he wouldn't die of embarrassment for wanking.

He settled on rubbing his neck and scowling. "Why?"

Jack contrived to look innocently confused. "Because it's there," he said, and grinned again.

Arse. Aster huffed, and looked away.

"So," Jack said. "Bunny."

He looked back. Couldn't exactly help it, not with that tone of voice Jack used.

The - temporarily - Pooka Felis crossed his legs and ducked his chin, looking sultry and, not so incidentally, putting his tail in the water. Jack promptly yowled and all but levitated, scrabbling at the air with all four feet and thus, falling face first onto the floor.

"Jack!"

"Oh my god I'm wet what the hell!" Jack twisted in the boneless way he had - which seemed exactly the same with a Pooka Felis skeleton, complete with three extra vertebrae in the neck and five in the back - and gawked at his sopping wet tail. "Ew. I'm all wet. Bunny! I'm all wet!"

"Yes, Jack." Aster crouched down, and began checking Jack over, every inch the professional. Not bleeding, nothing seemed broken... "That's what happens when you put a limb in water. You get wet."

"It feels so weird," Jack said, and grabbed the end of his tail in one hand. "How do I get it off? With my tongue?"

Aster suddenly had a mental image of Jack grooming himself like an actual cat, and shivered. "No. With a towel, you uncultured maniac."

Jack grinned at him, and flopped back onto the floor. "Just checking. The towel can wait."

"Are you sure?"

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and then reached sideways and up for his staff, arching in a way that sent Aster's brain down improper pathways. "Yup," he said, and caught the length of wood with the tip of one claw. "Hey, these are pretty handy."

"Do I want to know what the staff is for?"

Jack shrugged, and tapped his tail with the crook of his staff. His fur promptly iced over. "Okay, that... feels weird too, but not wet, so all good," he said, and set the staff aside. "C'mere, you sexy rabbit you."

"I am not cuddling you on the kitchen floor," Aster said. A bloke had to draw the line somewhere.

"Great!" Jack bounced up onto his feet. Aster blinked. "To the nest we go, then!"

"What? No!"

"You said you wouldn't cuddle me on the kitchen floor."

He had. "That doesn't mean we're going to the nest!"

Jack patted him on the cheek. "You're so cute when you're in denial, Bunny."

"What part of 'no' do you not understand?" he asked, following after Jack. "The 'n' or the 'o'?"

Jack laughed, and flit down the hallway. Aster followed, because he'd be damned if he let Jack alone in his home in this mood. He had absolutely no intention of indulging Jack, right up to the point when he reached the bedroom doorway and watched Jack stretch out in the nest, his white fur glowing against the dark blues and greens and ochre of the sheets and pillows. The temporary feline had tossed his staff at the far wall, and lay sprawled on his back. His blue eyes seemed to cast their own light, utterly unearthly and completely entrancing.

"Hey there, handsome," Jack said, arching back against the pillows. Fur or no fur, Aster was able to watch the play of muscle up and down Jack's torso, from the flex of his shoulders to the stretch of his stomach.

He took several steps into the room, and stopped, trembling faintly for no reason he could discern. He _wanted_ , because that was Jack and Jack was a Pooka Felis and he could smell the faint spice-and-musk of aroused Felis. His cock hardened in the sheath, tip poking out just the slightest bit.

Jack grinned, newly pointed teeth only just visible. He hadn't looked away from Aster's eyes, but he seemed aware of the effect he was having on the poor Pooka Leporid all the same. His long tail, most of the ice having broken off, slid back and forth over the sheets.

"Why're you holding back?" Jack asked, half closing his eyes, the better to look up at Aster through his eyelashes. "I want you, you want me..."

Good point. Good question. And Aster's answer... He apparently didn't have one.

So he crossed the rest of the distance, and crawled on top of Jack. He pressed himself against that lithe, white body, buried his nose in the soft fur along his mate's jawline, and groaned. His cock, long neglected and rather unhappy about that, slid free of his sheathe. Oversensitive, he groaned at the feeling of soft fur on softer skin, and thrust his hips down against Jack's thigh. Jack laughed, and then groaned, pressing up, his own cock hard and demanding against Aster's hip.

"Yeah," Aster breathed, and nipped at Jack's shoulder. Jack whined and thrust upwards again, the motion simultaneously pressing his cock into Aster's hip, and his thigh into Aster's cock. "Yeah, there's a good mate."

He lifted his head, and took a deep breath. Jack's spice-and-musk scent had gotten stronger, filled his nose and mouth with the essence of lusty Felis. His mind felt clouded, like the best and worst drunk of his life.

A white triangle flicked in and out of view, and he tilted his head to catch it with his teeth. Jack squealed when he bit down, and clawed at his shoulders. It hurt in the best way.

"Bunny," Jack gasped, pressing upwards again. "Bunny, Bunny, I - do something!"

Aster growled, and pressed down harder against Jack. He tugged on Jack's ear, then began mouthing along the side of the Felis' head, all tongue and teeth and demand. Jack groaned, and pressed upwards again, then turned his head away.

"Wait," he said. Aster heard him, distantly, but it didn't matter. Jack's voice didn't match his body, and Aster was drowning in scent and sensation and sharp claws pricking his back and a hard cock pressed up against his body, his own cock pressed against Jack. None of that said 'wait'.

Jack whimpered, and his claws dug deeper. " _Wait_ ," he said again, and Aster pulled back enough to look at him. Jack's pupils were blown, the Felis-slits so wide they were nearly human-round. Jack's gaze darted around the room, ears twitching like mad.

"What?" Aster asked, when Jack didn't say anything. He twitched his own ears, listening, trying to think through the fog.

"Something's wrong," Jack said, and pushed at Aster's shoulders. "Something - get off."

Aster shifted, a bit to the side. "I was _getting_ us off, mate," he said, and began to press down again.

Jack hissed at him.

Aster recoiled, and almost fell out of the nest. Jack blinked at him, then scowled and began pawing at himself.

"Jack?" he asked, the shock having cut nicely through both arousal and scent-drunk. "What -?"

"Something doesn't feel right," Jack said, panting lightly for breath. He ran his hands down his chest and stomach, to the base of his groin. One hand slid down below his cock, over his testes - smaller in a Pooka, regardless of the clan, than a human had - and then below.

At that point he stiffened, and the sound he made was equal parts intrigued and panicked.

Aster risked crawling closer. "Jack? What is it, mate?"

"My - my finger!" Jack lifted his hands away from his body, and stared at his fingers. One of them was noticeably wet. Aster's nose twitched; he really, somewhat desperately, wanted to lick Jack's hand clean. He refrained, if only because Jack seemed upset.

"What about it?" he asked.

"It went inside and that's not a spot it's supposed to go inside and I'm a boy, boys don't have that part!"

Aster blinked, and tilted his head to the side. Jack stared at him, ears tilted back and eyes wild.

"Yeah. But. You're a Pooka Felis right now."

" _What does that have to do with anything?_ "

Oh, ow. Aster rubbed at the base of one ear, resigned to a talk instead of a rut. Which was for the best, really, even though he could still smell traces of Jack's arousal. Though that was fading. And, too, the memories of Jack's hiss were enough to pretty much banish Aster's own interest in sex.

"Ah," he said, and sat back on his heels.

Jack wrapped his arms around himself, thighs pressed together. "What the hell, Bunny? What the hell?"

Aster rubbed one hand over his face, and cudgelled his stupid brain into cooperating. It took a minute, but he managed to toss a number of disparate pieces of information together to come up with, he hoped, the reason why Jack was reacting the way he was. Humans had binary genders, didn't they? But then he kept hearing about those that weren't binary, and - but _biologically_ speaking... but that made no sense!

"Alright, Frostbite," he said. "Let's go have some tea. I'm going to have to ask you some very stupid questions, because I got the feeling I won't be able to answer you until then."

Jack nodded, and shifted slightly - and then made a face. "I think I need to clean up first. My thighs are... wet."

And looked very lickable, but Aster kept that observation to himself. "I'll start the tea. You catch up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings next chapter: alien biology ahead, as well as alien sociology, psychology, social norms, mores, attitudes...
> 
> For me, the Pooka did not belong to a planet of hats. Suck it up and deal.
> 
> Here's the trope page: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PlanetOfHats


	17. Chapter Sixteen - The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Alien Pooka society leading to a great deal of confusion on Aster's part.

Jack looked very morose when he finally entered the kitchen. The blanket he'd wrapped around his shoulders in a form of cloak made him look smaller than he was; the hem dragged a good inch along the ground behind him. Aster admired the way the dark blue showed against the white fur, even as he frowned at how downcast his mate appeared.

"Jack?" he asked, and offered a mug of tea.

"Thanks, Bunny." Jack took the mug, and then sat down, arranging himself and his cloak with just a little difficulty. "So. We need to talk."

"Yeah, guess so," he admitted. "I'll admit, I'm not sure why you got as upset as you did."

"Not -" Jack held up one hand, and ducked his head. "Bunny. Apparently you didn't notice, but I'm a _guy_. Supposed to be a guy. Guys are supposed to have a penis and an anus, and _nothing else_."

He took a sip of tea, as much stalling tactic as because his mouth was dry. "Pooka aren't - weren't - binary. Not always. And _humans_ aren't always binary either," he added.

"Well, no, but the vast majority are and I certainly am supposed to - wait. You've got..." Jack gestured towards Aster's lap, though with the table in the way that was only an educated guess.

"The Leporid - rabbits - switched sexes?" But not genders, at least according to human terminology. Why did humans have to have so many different words for the _same thing_? It just made his head hurt; the Pookan system had been much more logical. Understandable. One term that worked for both mental and physical. Why make things so _complicated_?

Humans. He was certain their love of making things complicated had led to more wars...

" The Felis were - you are - both at once." He took another sip of tea. "The other clans had to go to a shaman if they felt they wanted a change."

Jack rubbed his hands over his face. "Pooka could just change _sexes_ whenever they wanted to?" he asked. He didn't sound pleased by the idea at all. Aster had to wonder why.

"Well, the shamans charged..." He'd looked into it himself, back when he'd been adolescent and mildly curious, what with his own shapeshifting being somewhat... broken. The fees had left him stunned for days.

The temporarily Felis growled, and flattened his ears. "That's _not_ the point. Bunny, humans can't _do_ that. Even sex reassignment isn't a hundred percent perfect, though from what I've seen the people who get the treatment are a lot happier... not the point." He took a deep breath. "The _point_ is, I've never wondered what it'd be like to be female, never wanted to have female parts, and now I seem to have a vagina!"

Aster frowned, and set his tea aside. " _Never_?" he asked.

Jack slitted his eyes and glared at him. "Is that what you're going to focus on here?"

He spread his hands. "I'm not sure what we're focusing on!"

Jack growled, and rubbed both hands over his face. "You know, most of the time it's really hard to remember you're actually an alien. This? Not one of those times."

Aster folded his arms. "Jack..."

"No. Listen. This... it's weird. It's weird and it was a surprise and not entirely a pleasant one." Jack glowered up at him from under his eyebrows. "What the hell, why didn't you tell me?"

Aster frowned back. "How'd you not notice before - before, anyways?"

"I have a tail!" Jack waved both hands in the air overhead. "I have a tail and fur and my center of gravity's changed and it doesn't hurt to walk on all fours! How am I supposed to notice female parts in all of that?"

Valid point... he supposed. Aster rubbed his forehead. "Right. Well. Pooka Felis are both genders at once."

"But I'm a _guy_ ," Jack muttered. "Okay. Fine. It's not like I've got to use those parts pre-returning back to normal."

"Physical reaction alone," Aster said. "You can't ignore that part of your body. And why would you want to?" He took a second to dredge up everything he'd heard and observed about Pooka Felis. "You get to have two orgasms at once!"

Jack's deadpan expression hadn't changed, even with the altered skull, muzzle, fur, and changed dental. "You know, I'm not really focusing on orgasms right now."

Fair enough, though he really had to wonder why not. Aster sighed, and took a long drink of tea. "I really have no idea where to go from here," he admitted. "I don't even want to guess what you want to ask me, because I'd probably get it wrong."

"Probably," Jack agreed, which wasn't encouraging. "Okay. Since I'm currently a Pooka cat -"

"Felis."

"- Whatever, and you're a rabbit -"

"Leporid."

"- Stop interrupting me. Why two different species?"

Good question. Aster nodded, and leaned back in his chair. "Guess I never told you about that, did I? Well, because we're different clans." He held up a hand when Jack started to talk; the temporary Felis backed off, but didn't look happy about it. Aster figured he'd pay for that later. "The Leporid are the oldest clan. Supposedly, there were two lines that created the Leporid - the Pooka Octobracchium and the Pooka Lepusculus. Kind of how the Neanderthal line bred into the Sapiens line, with humans, but with us the two sides merged fully into a new clan."

Jack reached up and massaged the bridge of his muzzle. "Okay. Following you so far. Continue."

"The founding of the clans was far enough back that only the old histories had the names of the other species," Aster said. "And I never paid much attention in history class."

"Don't justify, just explain."

Aster took a sip of tea. "Well, the Felis clan was next. The Leporid started up with space exploration, and met some new species that was very... feline," he said, smirking just a touch. "Thus the name."

Jack frowned. "And the Pooka adapted to look like the new species?"

"Well, the babies looked a bit like their mum and a bit like their dad," Aster said, suddenly amused. "Y'know how it goes. Off a ways from your own people, exploring a new planet, come across some studly muscular thing that can scratch an itch good -"

"Bunny!" Jack sat bolt upright, eyes so wide they were almost round. "What the hell!"

He grinned. "Shapeshifters. If a Pooka wanted a kitten with someone from another species, then they'd shift a bit to make it possible and then there'd be a baby. The Felis that resulted started the new clan, with traits from both sides. The other species, whatever their name was, were bi-sexual as well."

"Bi means being attracted to both genders now," Jack said. "I think the word you're looking for is hermaphrodite."

Aster frowned, and tilted his head to the side. "Thought that meant someone born with ambiguous genitals?"

Jack shook his head. "No, that's intersex now."

The English language needed to _stop changing_ so damn fast. "Fine. The other species, the cat one, were all hermaphrodites, and the Felis reflected that. Damn lucky of them, too," he added. Jack looked doubtful, so he elaborated a touch. "You can't shift what you don't know about. I got out of the details, my shapeshifting is... different... but anyone who wanted to even consider switching their gender needed to go to special biology lessons and do tests and had to practice under the instructor's guidance. Do you know how fucked up someone could've made their body by putting the tubes wrong?"

Jack twitched his ears and raised his eyebrows. "Apparently very?"

"There'd always be one idiot who rushed through it and died," Aster said. "Sometimes more than one a year. The Felis didn't have to put up with that nonsense."

"Well, that's something," Jack said, and scowled down at his own lap. "Okay, so, moving on - and yes, we'll return to the shapeshifting and the Felis, but you mentioned other clans?"

"Next after that were the Canim," Aster said. "I'm not sure if they were from the Leporid and... Kaflehan? That's not right..." He shook his head. "Anyways, I don't know if the Pooka clan was Leporid, or Felis, or both, but they looked more like, well, wolves."

"And here I thought you were going to say dogs."

"The Canim were the first clan to be unable to shift their sex at will, and they didn't have both like the Felis. They were the first to have shamans, though," he added. "And the shamans figured out pretty quick how to trigger the change in others. Among other things." And of course it was powered by blood and sacrifice. Aster had never known how. He'd never wanted to know.

Jack frowned, but nodded. "Okay. And then?"

"The Equus and Aquilae were founded about the same time, geologically speaking," Aster said. "The Equus were as horse-like as I'm rabbit-like, walked on two legs, couldn't shapeshift at all, but they made up for it in physical strength." If they hadn't been, generally speaking, as gentle as they'd been strong, there might've been a problem. "The Aquilae were the only clan to have six limbs - two wings. Feathers, too."

"Aquil - eagles?" Jack tapped his fingers against the table. "I'm guessing there's a translation convention at work here? Because the clan names sound kind of Latin."

Aster lifted his chin and looked haughty. "It amused me."

Jack looked anything but impressed. "Your sense of humour needs work." He pursed his lips, and added, "A lot of work."

Well, didn't that make a bloke feel special? Aster ducked his head and most certainly didn't glare at Jack.

"So," his mate said. "What you're telling me is that early Pooka gave new meaning to the phrase 'make love not war', somehow this only resulted in five different types - clans - of Pooka instead of the billions you'd expect, and the clan I got stuck as happens to be the one that's hermaphrodite instead of penis-or-vagina-you-only-get-one, am I right?"

It took him a second to decipher Jack's meaning from the torrent of words, but he nodded. "Ye- _es_ ," he said very slowly and carefully. Jack's glower intensified. "Ah, what, ah... You still don't seem very happy about it?"

"I'm trying to find the silver lining and so far, it's not there," Jack said. "So how else has my new biology fucked me over?"

Aster decided not to worry too much over the way he'd worded that.

"You mean, you want to know about Felis biology in specific?" he asked.

"You can phrase it that way, if you like."

So, yes. "Well," Aster said. "The Felis were pretty... They preferred to isolate theirselves from the rest of the clans. Not that there was an overabundance of mingling, mind you," he added. "There were all the other planets, some which were only populated by one clan or the other, and the different continents and all. Every so often someone would get lucky enough for a Felis to agree to be their mate, but mostly they kept to theirselves even more than anyone else."

Jack opened his mouth, and then made a face. "Quick question - what sort of mingling did happen?"

"I was raised by a Canim pack," he offered. "They were the only ones willing to deal with a berserker, extra arms and all. There was more mingling on the home planet, though. Usually the different clans would settle on planets or in places where their particular adaptations worked the best, and others had to work a bit harder. Just how it was."

It was, he thought, a bit like how Earth had its different races, if said different races came with fur and feathers and immense strength or the ability to turn into a completely different species at will.

And if the different races of Earth had spread out and populated several different nearby galaxies as well.

"Alright," Jack said. "So the Felis didn't mingle as much?"

"Not really. I never saw another Felis until I joined the army. General's mate, I think she was."

"She?" Jack tapped his fingers against the tabletop again. "If the Felis were hermaphrodites, how could you tell?"

Aster shrugged. "The official Pookan language didn't have gender terms. Closest translation to that sort of thing was 'it'. As for the Felis, I don't know, personal preference? She certainly liked dressing up in what were very feminine clothes."

Jack flattened his ears in irritation, but only for a moment. "Fine. My personal preference is for male, for the record." He muttered, low enough Aster likely wasn't supposed to have heard it, "And I'll claw up anyone who argues with me over it."

He cleared his throat, and spoke at a normal tone again, "So, the way you phrased it, you'd seen other clans before?"

"We lived in a very..." He searched for the right word, and didn't find it. "A very integrated town. It helped that the area was pretty much good for all the clans. There were cliffs for the Aquilae and their aeries, fields there the Equus preferred to live and farm, the Canim were the local peacekeeping force, the Leporid..." He shrugged. "You get the idea, yeah? But I don't think anyone in my town had ever seen a Felis before, except in pictures."

Jack frowned, and leaned forward, elbows braced on the table. "Why was that?" he asked. "Why would they avoid the others like that?"

Aster shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Everyone worshiped the ground they walked on. The Felis were... the _Felis_. Everyone admired them. Sure, the Leporid were the older clan, but the Felis was the best. And they could have kittens with anyone, any clan, and they'd either be full Felis or full - other parent - without any trouble or shapeshifting on the mother's part."

Jack growled, just a touch. Aster frowned. "What?"

"Never mind. Anything else about the Felis?"

"Not that I - oh." He smiled, suddenly amused. "Ah, depending on how long you stay a Felis, Jack, you might get tetchy."

"Oh," Jack said, tail lashing. "I'm already quite annoyed, thank you."

"Not that kind of tetchy," he said, smiling. "Something Felis apparently went through. Their sex drive would apparently go nuts for a week or two every decade." Apparently, from what he'd heard from other Pooka, the results was something like an earth cat on a catnip high. Complete with trying to bat at invisible flies, jumping for high ledges and failing utterly, and acting completely stoned.

Jack stared at him, and Aster slowly lost his smile. Finally, after the silence had gone on long enough for the Leporid to get a touch nervous, Jack finally spoke.

"You mean," he said, enunciating every word very carefully, "I'm going to go into heat."

Aster cleared his throat. "Well. Yes?"

Jack took a deep breath, and let it out in a growl. "So, what? When I go into this heat I better hope I'm around you, because I won't be able to say no?"

Aster opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Wha...?"

"That's what a heat is! Mother Nature's fucking rohypnol!" Jack flattened his ears and showed his teeth.

Aster could only stare at him and blink.

Jack snorted, and shoved away from the table. "Yeah, you're sleeping on the couch. Get used to it. And the bedroom door had better lock!"

He couldn't quite remember if it locked, but it certainly did slam. Which Jack demonstrated with apparent enthusiasm moments later. Aster winced at the noise, and then looked down at his now-cold tea.

Several billion years and that thought had never occurred to him.

He was starting to see why Jack was just a touch upset, though. Not that it currently helped him, but at least he was beginning to understand. Thought he was beginning to understand. Probably.

Now, how did he make this _right_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Please give our poor Easter Bunny SOME credit - his culture was just very different from humans, and no matter how long he's stayed on Earth he still doesn't quite get it. Explanations (for him) will come next chapter. Let's just say this chapter, next, and the third, will be very talky!


	18. Chapter Seventeen - The Talk, Redux

Aster knocked on his bedroom door - and might or might not have reflected, a bit, on the irony of being locked out of _his own_ bedroom - and ducked his head. "Jack?" he called. "Jack, c'mon mate, I made your favourite."

There was a hair-raising - literally, been a while since he'd actually heard one of those - snarl from behind the door. "You think you can _bribe_ me?"

Either everyone had forgotten to mention the Felis had tempers fit to terrify a fearling, or Jack hid the occasional nasty attitude under smiles and laughter.

Or both. Both was entirely possible, he had to admit.

"Well, I'd rather talk to you than the door," he said. "Look, I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what he was sorry for, but he _was_ feeling rather sorry at being locked out of his own bedroom.

Not that it rankled, or anything.

He managed to hear a sigh, then - ah, the door did lock after all - the _thunk_ of the old-fashioned deadbolt sliding back. Jack pulled the door open, and scowled at him.

"Do you even know _why_ I'm upset?"

"No," he said honestly. "But I want you to tell me why." Jack's tail started lashing back and forth, scowl deepening. "How can I understand if you don't tell me?"

At that, his mate stopped looking quite so annoyed. "Good point," he said, and straightened up. Aster hadn't even realized Jack had been crouched, as though ready to jump teeth first at an enemy. He wished he could blame that on the Frost-brain's new body, but that was unfortunately something he'd always seemed to have, from their first meeting on.

"C'mon, then," he said, and held his hand out. "I've been slaving over a hot stove most of the day."

"Literally?" Jack asked, and then his eyes widened and he grabbed Aster's wrist. "What the hell, bandages? You're hurt!"

"Just a little nick. I've gotten worse pulling weeds." Some of those sedges had nasty edges to their leaves.

Jack curled his upper lip back, revealing white, sparkling teeth, each one of which was sharp enough to use as a knife. A small knife, mind, maybe more like a scalpel, and... he was getting off topic even inside his own brain, and Jack was now looking highly amused.

"What?"

"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

"Sorry, I was too busy thinking about you nibbling on my neck with those," he said, nostrils flaring.

Jack frowned, but his eyes danced with good humour. "Talk about that after you regain my goodwill," he said, and started sauntering towards the kitchen. Aster followed behind, because if he was in trouble - and he still wasn't entirely sure why - at least the view was good.

Jack paused in the doorway, breathed deeply, and then made a surprised little sound. "I think I can figure what you cooked just from scent," he said. "Maybe. It's all very strong..."

"Humans don't use their noses much," Aster said, and urged Jack into the room, one hand at the small of the Felis' back. "The Canim had the best, followed by the Equus. Felis were third, with Leporid a close fourth. The Aquilae had the worst. Beaks."

Jack smirked, and then took a good look. "Wha-huh?" he said. "Where'd all this come from?"

Aster smiled in reply. "Get as old as I am, you tuck a lot of stuff away. Become a bit of a hoarder even without meaning to."

He was quite pleased with the transformation his kitchen had undergone. There was a white linen tablecloth out, as pale as Jack's fur. He'd managed to find some old candle holders, silver ones that hadn't tarnished even though they were probably a few centuries old now. He'd given them a quick shine, found an unopened box of five hundred, virgin beeswax - he'd never known how beeswax could be virgin and never really cared to know - taper candles, which now provided soft and subtle lighting for them to eat by. The food was on the counter, which had been cleared off with the simple method of just stuffing everything he didn't absolutely need into the cupboards underneath. The food waited on the side in heavy ceramic dishes, to help keep the warm stuff warm and the cold stuff cool.

Jack turned and stared at him. "Please tell me I forgot an important date and this isn't you trying to, I don't know, get me in a better mood. Or something."

"I am not trying to seduce you," Aster promised, reaching over and gently tracing one of Jack's ears. He wouldn't be opposed to that result, but they had too much to talk about first. "I do hope you like it, though."

"You set the standard pretty damn high... Next time I piss you off I'm going to have to... book us reservations at that really fancy place in New York, I don't know." Jack went back to gawking at the table. " _How_ many place settings are there?"

"Four courses. Appetizers, soup, main, and dessert, with some plain soda crackers and water to cleanse our palates in between."

Jack blinked at him, slowly. "People actually do that? Cleanse their... really?"

"It prevents mingling of flavours from one course to the next. Go on then, sit down. I'll get the starters." He moved over to the waiting food, and added a generous helping of the oysters, on the half shell as Jack preferred, to each plate. He added several lemon wedges, more for his plate than Jack's, as well as an equally healthy helping of parsley - again, more for him than Jack.

He turned around with the loaded plates, and grinned at the way Jack's eyes lit up, and his throat started flexing as he swallowed, then swallowed again. "Anticipating the meal?" he teased, and set the plates down at their spots.

"Oh, am I ever," Jack said, purring his words just a little. Aster shivered, and promptly sat down. He'd have to get control over himself before getting up to plate the next course, but that would take a bit of time. The food was meant to be savoured.

He smiled a little at the clear disparity in their plates. He had all of ten oysters on his plate, with five lemon wedges. Jack had double the oysters and three lemon wedges. It was only fair, Aster reminded himself. Jack would take far more enjoyment out of his oysters than Aster would.

"Why're you chuckling?" Jack asked, picking up the first oyster. He ate it, a few drops of oyster juice escaping at the corner of his mouth. He licked up the drops, and frowned. "It's different, eating with a muzzle."

"I'll take your word for it. Never done without one." He ate his own oyster, and chewed thoughtfully. Then he licked a lemon wedge. "Anyways, just remembering how I found out about your little seafood obsession," he said.

"Oh." Jack's ears went back, and he ate two more oysters. "That."

Aster twitched his whiskers. "That."

He wasn't sure exactly when it'd been - before they'd paired up, even before Jack had remembered exactly what'd happened back in '68. There'd been a meeting, if he remembered right, and Jack had arrived late, clutching his stomach and groaning, with the most satisfied expression Aster had seen from him at that point.

Tooth had fussed, because of course she did, until Jack had finally explained that he'd found the best place to grab oysters, and managed to stuff himself sick on the things.

North, the ruddy hypocrite, had freaked out at eating meat raw, when everyone knew his steaks came out of the kitchen still bloody.

Aster was knocked out of the memory by a gentle kick to his ankle. "That was not as funny as you seem to think it was."

"Just another example of your fine sense of self-preservation," Aster teased. "Stuffing yourself sick on dubious shellfish, cuddling with berserk monsters -"

"Call yourself a monster again and I'm dying you pink and sparkly and throwing you into a room of little girls," Jack said, utterly serene.

"- and - wait, what?"

Jack ate another oyster, and smiled.

Then he sobered. Jack toyed with one of the empty shells. "Bunny, we need to have a talk. Part two. The talk, redux." He nodded, and raised one eyebrow. "Don't you agree?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "I've been trying to figure things out, why you're so upset, all afternoon."

Jack frowned. "And what've you determined?"

Aster sighed, and ate an oyster. "Even after billions of years watching humans evolve and develop, I still have no clue what goes on in your minds."

At least the temporary Felis grinned at that. "No, I guess you don't. I'm not really sure how to explain it, myself - I've never had this happen to me." Aster frowned, confused. "Feeling wrong in my own body, I mean."

"Oh." He tried to imagine feeling that way, like something was wrong with him. He couldn't. "And you do now?"

"I have body parts - not just female parts, but just _parts_ \- that I've either never had before, or have completely changed on me." He reached up and fingered one ear. "I mean, sure, parts of it are really cool, it helps that I'm apparently really hot going by your reaction, but some of it's really freaky." He leaned back and glared down at himself. " _Really_ freaky."

Now it was Aster's turn to play with an empty oyster shell. "That's the part I don't understand," he admitted. "Being... freaked out about it."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "How would you feel if some spell turned you human?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "Pissed off."

"Right. Only my default is amused, yours is grumpy. So, you're human, and pissed off, and nothing's working quite _right_. Your fingers are different. Your sense of smell - different. Hearing, ditto. Hell, everything you look at looks different because your eyes are, surprise-surprise, _different_." Jack leaned forward over the table, his gaze boring into Aster. "You have to consciously think about what you're doing, walking, picking something up, just standing, because sure it's working on automatic just like normal but it still feels so... strange from what you're used to. I have a tail! Humans haven't had tails in... since we developed thumbs!"

Aster nodded, and sat back to think it over. Jack ate his oysters while he did, then reached over and appropriated Aster's. For the best, really. He preferred his meat to be cooked, if given the choice.

What _would_ it be like, to have his body changed like that? One thing to do it willingly, after all, to have it under his conscious control or at least his conscious choice. Another thing entirely for someone else to change him without his consent... which thought made him frown a bit deeper. Among the Pooka, as among humans, there'd always been those for whom consent had been... a non-issue. So to speak. Aster's family, at least, had put great emphasis on it, so he did as well. In every situation. Well, most every situation, sometimes you had to take someone's choice away to save their life...

Not the point.

The point was, he reckoned he could see where Jack was coming from. It wasn't just that everything about his body had been changed, it was that he hadn't agreed to the changes. He hadn't been told beforehand what they'd entail.

If someone had done that to Aster, he'd have gone off on a tear. Probably gone berserk - except, as a human, that wouldn't mean six arms and an extra hundred or so pounds in muscle and fury. It would've probably meant getting his arse beaten into the ground for trying to fight in a body he didn't know, ending up in traction, in the North Pole's medical wing.

He shuddered. Terrifying thought.

Aster couldn't imagine having long, spindly human fingers, or walking on his entire foot instead of just the balls of his feet. He couldn't imagine being utterly naked without clothing, his _hair_ \- instead of proper fur - limited to select places on his body. His creativity, apparently, didn't stretch that far.

But he imagined, under the anger, would be a great deal of fear.

Aster reached over and rested one hand on top of Jack's. "Alright then," he said. "I think I can at least see where you're coming from."

Jack turned his hand over, so palm pressed against palm. "And that's just species," he said. "Not only did I change that, but I got a whole new sex."

"And you lost me again," Aster said. He stood up, and gestured at the empty plates. "I'll get the soup."

"It's not like it's that hard," Jack said. "I'm supposed to be one sex, which just happens to match up with my gender. Now it doesn't match."

The soup smelt good, almost as good as it'd taste. Aster licked his lips and did his best not to drool as he brought over bowls of the sweet onion and roasted shallot soup. "Gimme a tick," he said, and after putting the bowls of extremely hot liquid down, grabbed the serving dish of parmesan croutons.

Jack hummed in appreciation, and picked up a spoon. Aster decided it was not worth pointing out that Jack was using his dessert spoon. "I mean," Jack said, gesturing with the utensil. "You're male."

"I suppose," he said, and tasted the soup. Oh, yes. Very good.

"You suppose?" Jack put his spoonful of soup back into the bowl. "Huh?"

He spooned up another mouthful, and savoured the taste. This was how seafood was supposed to be eaten - cooked! "Pooka didn't have genders."

Jack reached up and massaged his forehead. "What?"

"We had sexes, I guess, the way you humans classify things. But when your species can switch that sort of thing at will -"

"Or by paying for it a lot, I guess."

"- Or, when the non-shifters came about, paying for it... How do you classify something as belonging to a gender? By the time we met other species that weren't shapeshifters and did have binary genders - oh, the Canim's other side had three, apparently - it wasn't..." He shook his head. "It was in species that didn't have space travel and were still fighting wars with rocks and pointy sticks. It was considered, no offense, to be something barbaric savages were about."

Jack mock-glared at him. "As a member of a species that, until very recently, waged wars with rocks and pointy sticks, I'll hold off on the offense until it's best time to get my revenge."

Aster grinned at him. "Fair enough. It wasn't until the Pookan Empire ran up against... can't remember, but it was another Empire, or maybe a Federation or something like that. Yonks before my time. But they were non-shapeshifters with only two genders - sorry, sexes - but only two genders, too. Just as technologically advanced as we were, just as convinced _we_ were the barbaric savages for _not_ having genders as we were convinced they were for having them."

"The Pooka were an Empire?" Jack asked, blinking.

"There'd been a few, by the time I'd been born." He shrugged. "At any rate, one thing about all Pooka, whether they were in a shapeshifting clan or not, was that... the language didn't have _genders_. _We_ didn't have genders. Whatever sexual characteristics you happened to have was what you wanted to have, and if you wanted to switch them or keep them, that was your business. Maybe your mate's."

Jack finally ate some of his soup, and he moaned in reaction to the taste. "That's so good!"

"Thank you."

"I'm chaining you to the stove from now on."

Aster smirked, and waggled his eyebrows. "I can pick locks."

Jack stared at him for a moment. "That's actually kinda sexy. So, if Pooka didn't have genders, but did have sexes..."

"Sure. You want to ask about pronouns, don't you?"

Jack started to gesture with his spoon, but stopped because it was full of soup. "Well, did people just switch which pronoun they were using when they switched, ah, characteristics?"

"Nope." Aster leaned back. "One pronoun for everyone. Well, technically two - ehela and sela. Ehela was the personal one - I, me - and sela was for everyone else - you."

Jack frowned at him. "And?"

"And the closest translation would be 'it'," Aster admitted.

Jack scowled, and put his spoon down. "You're not a thing," he spat.

"No. But," Aster reached up, and tapped his temple, "I don't have a gender, either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is posted late for anyone, work changed (later hours) and then I went horseback riding after...
> 
> So. The Greeks had something like five different words for love. Pooka had one word for sex and gender. Actually, so far as Bunny's aware, none of them had a gender, seeing as that's all mental. Women's work ended when the babies got on solids. (Jack will kill the first person to call Bunny an 'it', though. Maiming if it's Bunny calling himself an 'it'.)


	19. Chapter Eighteen - Jack's Interlude

He'd slept, eventually, once he'd worn himself out tossing and turning. And thinking. Fortunately Bunny had gotten the clue and slept on the other side of the nest, instead of cuddling close like normal. Of course, the cuddling had gotten ruined too, Jack had thought, feeling very sour. His new senses were... crazy, that's what they were. He got within arms' reach of Bunny, and he could _smell_ the rabbit.

Bunny smelt very good.

He'd thought he knew the Pooka's scent; hah! He'd known nothing! Bunny smelt like his paints, a bit like charcoal dust and mulch, a _lot_ like fur, with an undertone of musk which Jack was sure would normally make him wrinkle his nose at the pungency, but now made his mouth water and he wasn't sure why.

Well, no, he _knew_ why, he just...

Jack huffed, and rubbed at his forehead. Bunny put a plate of scrambled eggs and fried bacon in front of him.

At least the food was good, if he was going to be confused and sleep deprived and cranky as a result.

This... stupid new body of his _wanted_ Bunny, in a way that he'd never felt as a human. Sure, he'd wanted to press up against the Pooka, cuddle and press his face into Bunny's chest fur and feel the overgrown rabbit hug him close... He'd wanted to kiss Bunny, lips and tongue and teeth as they fit together two very different profiles for mutual pleasure. He'd wanted to touch, and be touched, and feel sleek muscle shifting under a sleeker pelt. He'd wanted to... well. Do things that were probably inappropriate to think about at the breakfast table, though he'd jerked off many a night - and afternoon - thinking about the things he wanted to do to, and with, Bunny. And have done to him, too.

He hadn't decided if he'd wanted to be the one on the bottom, or the one on the top, when he'd run afoul of the glacier spirit that'd turned him into a baby Pooka.

And now, Jack thought, stabbing at the eggs, his stupid body...

_Things_ moved inside him that weren't supposed to be there. And he had a sudden, painful sympathy for women. Sure, they didn't get boners at the worst times, but having - female parts - suddenly contract in response to Bunny's scent was _painful_. Not a lot, just enough to be noticeable, and of course his body would somehow sense or know or maybe it was instinct, whatever, but he knew that the tight not-quite-pain that... that was between his legs in a way that a boner wasn't, because this was inside his pelvis and a boner was in front of it...

At any rate, he knew that having Bunny press inside _that part_ would make the not-quite-pain go away.

It was _horrible_.

"You right there, mate?"

Jack didn't look up. "Sorta."

Bunny reached across the table and touched his wrist. "Look, if this is going to go on for a while, I'll see if I can't dig out what I know about shapeshifting."

He looked up at that. "You think I could... wait, really?"

"No reason why you couldn't," Bunny pointed out. "You're a Pooka Felis. Pooka Felis can shapeshift - how d'you think they could breed with other species than Pooka? You should be able to get yourself fully male, at least, if that's what you want." He looked baffled, as though he couldn't understand the desire, but... Well.

Jack still didn't know how to feel about Bunny's little revelation over dinner, that he didn't have a gender as humans saw it - that his physical sex had nothing to do with what was going on upstairs. It was kind of weird. From what Jack had seen, humans defined themselves by their sex, their gender. What matched. What didn't. Who could take what roles, what the exceptions were, when and why. The idea of a species that didn't have that was kind of... mind boggling. Cool, but hard to wrap his brain around.

"How quickly do you think I could learn? Just to shift a few, uh, sexual organs around?"

"Not too long," Bunny said, after thinking for a minute. "You already know how it's supposed to feel, you just need to learn how to focus the right way."

No doubt. At least part of last night had been spent concentrating on his body, trying to get rid of the _feelings_ from... there. Jack ate a few forkfuls of eggs, and nodded.

"Do you think we can get started on that right away?" he asked.

"Can't skip out on a visit to North's." Bunny shook his head. "Even thinking we're having wild and crazy sex, North'll come storming in here. With a bucket of ice water, pro'lly."

"He needs a hobby."

Bunny snorted. "Making his friends miserable _is_ his hobby."

Jack ducked his head and grinned.

* * *

Phil, looking rather more harried than usual, made them wait just inside the door. He was the only yeti in sight; despite how 'close' it was to Christmas, the various toy making stations stood silent. Jack saw an elf here and there, scuttling about, but the one - maybe more than one, they all looked alike - he saw looked furtive.

The lack of movement and noise helped, but the sheer amount of... _stuff_... Colors everywhere, mostly clashing. Scents; some expected, like the sawdust and paint, some not, like ozone and something he could only mentally describe as 'pink'. Movement from the elf creeping around, from the streamers and whirligigs up near the roof, toy trains still running on their tracks...

After a minute, Jack turned and buried his face in Bunny's chest. Forget how Bunny's scent made him feel, made those _parts_ tighten, his head was starting to hurt.

"Yeah," Bunny said, and rested one hand at the base of Jack's neck. "Takes a while to get used to how... busy... everything is."

"Understatement," he said, and hiccupped. Jack straightened up, mouth twisting to the side. And then hiccupped again - and bit his tongue. "Ow!"

"Wha-?"

Jack stuck his tongue out. "Ah mhy b'ehee?" he asked.

Bunny squinted at him, and then down at his tongue. "No, you're not bleeding."

He carefully retracted his tongue. "Feels like bleeding," he muttered, and hiccupped again. "What the hell?"

"Try holding your breath."

Like that ever worked. Still, Jack breathed in - _whoa_ , scent _overload_ , could he actually _taste_ some of it? - and held it as long as he could. When he breathed out, he waited, but no hiccup. "That might've worked," he said, and paused. His ears twitched, a very odd feeling, but again, no hiccup. So maybe he hadn't jinxed himself.

"Good. I'd hate for North to try the sugar cure on you," Bunny said, and smirked. Jack eyed him warily, even as he felt his ears tilt back.

_Very_ strange.

"Last time, he mixed up the sugar with the salt. I about died," Bunny said.

It felt weirder to have his ears press flat against his head - and his whiskers. He could _feel_ his whiskers and they were pressed back against his cheeks. "Let's not do that," he said. Jack very carefully kept his gaze trained on Bunny, instead of looking back out into the workshop. Sure, nothing said the workshop had caused the hiccups, but nothing said the visual overload hadn't been the cause either.

Besides, now was as good a time to talk as any.

"Bunny?"

His rabbit raised one eyebrow. "Yeah, mate?"

Jack cleared his throat, almost distracted feeling how his ears kept twitching back and forth. "Are you upset?"

Bunny frowned. "About what?" He reached for Jack's cheek, hesitated, and held still when Jack crossed the last inch and pressed his face into Bunny's hand.

Just because he didn't like what _one_ part of his body was doing, didn't mean he really wanted to go without his Bunny-cuddles. Besides, it wasn't like avoiding physical contact was preventing said reactions. Just looking at the overgrown rabbit made those parts get tight and painful, so he was pretty much metaphorically screwed either way.

"About... I mean, right now, I'm a Pooka." He stared into Bunny's eyes, but for once they were unreadable. "But once we figure out what happened, I'll be human again. Does that... bother you? That I don't want to stay Pooka?"

Bunny stared down at him, eyes twitching as he looked first into Jack's left eye, then his right. "I don't know," he said, ears angling back. "It's... not as simple as a 'yes' or 'no', is it?"

No. Not even Jack's desire to go back to being human was that simple. On the one hand - familiarity. Heritage. What was _supposed to be_. His proper gender, no extra sexual bits. On the other hand... the tail was pretty awesome.

He huffed, and leaned forward into Bunny's chest. "The problem is, I don't like this... both gender thing. If not for that, it'd be pretty cool. Weird, but cool." Probably. How would he have reacted if the whole extra-sex-bits hadn't been a factor? He wanted to think he'd have been enthusiastic, but... Who could say for sure?

"I hate seeing you miserable," Bunny said, and nuzzled the top of Jack's head. "I don't... I'm trying, but I still can't quite wrap my head around it. Why, I mean. But I hate seeing you upset."

Clear as mud, but Jack got it. "I know."

"But..." Now it was Bunny's turn to huff. "But you're another _Pooka_. Right now. Sure, it's a spell, but... you sound right. You look right. I didn't... realize how much I missed... seeing another Pooka."

Jack looked up, and Bunny refused to look at him. "Hey," he said, and reached up to cup Bunny's cheek. "It's okay, Bunny. I get it."

"Really," he said, sounding sceptical. Looked sceptical, too, complete with raised eyebrows, little frown, and narrowed eyes. Jack rubbed his thumb underneath Bunny's eye, and nodded.

"Really. Something that's finally familiar... and not in a mirror." He smiled up at Bunny. "I don't blame you."

"I'm glad." Bunny hugged him properly, and sighed. "At least I can say with utmost honesty that I don't care what you look like. Human, Pooka... you're a looker and it's hard to keep my hands off you."

Jack giggled, and ducked his head to hide a blush... that was probably hidden quite nicely by his fur already, he supposed. Bunny muttered under his breath; Jack wouldn't have been able to understand it before, as a human, but his Pookan hearing was obviously much better.

"Hey." He poked Bunny in the side. "You're not a dirty old man."

Bunny grunted, but didn't reply.

Jack relaxed, and rubbed his cheek against Bunny's shoulder. This was nice. Mind you, certain body parts - not just the female bits, but the male too - were urging certain activities on, but he was permanently a teenager with the resulting hormones. He was actually used to at least part of his brain focused on getting off most of the time. It was just the different physical reactions that were throwing him off, and he was getting better at ignoring them all the time.

Of course, that didn't explain why he wanted Bunny to scratch him behind the ears or under the chin, or the way his fingertips itched, like he wanted to dig his nifty retractable claws into Bunny's shoulders. And it really didn't explain the way he wanted to catch one of those fluttering streamers and hide it away in his hidden cave.

Huh. When was the last time he'd been to his cave? Jack shook his head. "Something random reminded me," he said. Bunny twitched a little, like he was suppressing a jump. Awesome. "Remind me to show you my home sometime."

Bunny hummed, and traced the edge of Jack's ear. It tickled, and he twitched his ear to make Bunny stop. Neat, first time he'd deliberately made his ear move. "I thought you were a nomad."

"Mostly. But there was one place I kept going back to. I woke up there after '68," he explained, looking up at Bunny. "Safest place I've ever felt, other than the Warren."

"High praise indeed," Bunny said. And of course Phil chose that time to return, grumbling at the both of them and waving them in.

Jack frowned, and trailed Phil. He was aware of Bunny following behind him, but not paying too much attention until Bunny grabbed the tip of his tail and tugged lightly.

"What?" he asked, turning and glaring. Not that it'd hurt, but it had felt really, _incredibly_ weird.

"Y'looked ready to pounce on Phil and cache him up a tree," Bunny said, whiskers twitching, though the rest of him looked sober as a judge. "Not sure that's the right impression to give, yeah?"

What the - cache Phil up a tree? What the heck did Bunny... "I'm not stalking him!"

"Then maybe a little less predator in your walk, hm?" Bunny suggested, whiskers twitching more.

Jack sniffed, and turned away. His hips swayed from side to side more than he was used to, probably because he was literally walking on his toes, but he was pretty sure his hips had changed. Of course, he could walk around on all fours without hurting his back, too, which kind of required changed hips. Still, it was very weird to actually sashay without having to _try_.

Phil seemed to either not have heard the conversation, or ignored it. He led the way through the workshop, to a part of the building that Jack recognized only vaguely. He opened the door to a room that - if not for the mystic remodel - had probably been a ballroom, or possibly a gymnasium, just a few days ago.

Ballroom, gymnasium... Jack twirled his staff around one wrist and sighed. There wasn't much difference between the two, in his opinion.

Bunny stepped up beside him, and looked around. "Divination spell, take two?" he said. Jack raised his eyebrows, but didn't ask.

"Again," North said, leaving something at the center of the room, and moving towards them. He took an oddly twisting route; oddly because, apart from yeti dressed in bedsheets, there wasn't anything for North to walk into. Twisting because the floor was covered in chalked symbols and lines, and North was stepping in the unmarked spaces between them. "I said it before, I say it again. This is simplest."

"This time, I happen to agree with you," Bunny said. "What do you need us to do?"

Jack raised one hand. "Hey, what're you two talking about?"

North blinked at him, and then beamed. "You make a very fluffy cat, Jack."

Said fluffy cat pointed his staff at North's nose. "Uh huh. And you'll make a great ice sculpture, I'm sure," he drawled.

"Now, now, no need for that. Divination spell will best determine why you are Pooka, and what spell is cause. It tells caster everything about subject, but..." North raised his eyebrows. "For privacy I have hedged spell about so I will only know about species."

Well, that was... good. "Thanks," Jack said, whiskers going limp. "That's really appreciated."

"Good. Now, I need you to stand in middle of room, center of design. Bunny, just stay here, don't touch anything."

Bunny sighed. "What, not even the floor?"

"Very funny." North held a hand out to Jack. "Come, and be careful where you put feet."

Jack stared at North, looked over at Bunny, and then rolled his eyes. He concentrated, and then jumped into the air.

And didn't come down.

"Oh look. I fly," he said, and smirked. "Where did you want me to stand?"

Once North had Jack positioned the way he wanted, he made his way out to the outer edge of the circle, and the ritual began.

And, Jack promptly discovered, he could one - see the magical energy the ritual raised, and two - he could see it as a fog that made it impossible to see just about everything else! He'd have checked to see if he could see his own hand at the end of his arm, but North had stressed the importance of not moving, or they'd have to reset.

So he got to stare at coloured fog that occasionally got brighter, or darker, or shifted to a new colour. The colors he could see were all harmonious. Pastel, too, which he hadn't expected. From what he could see, no one else seemed effected, or if they could see the fog, they weren't surprised.

It was frustrating, though! Jack could hear people moving about; the yeti were chanting, things were being picked up, waved around, and put down. North was chanting as well, something completely different from what the yeti were doing, and Jack was pretty sure most of the coloured lights were where North was.

The gathering magic made his skin prickle and his fur stand on end. Goosebumps, with extra goose and super-extra bumps.

Jack clenched his teeth, and waited. And waited. And waited yet some more, while the lights shifted and changed, the fog kept getting thicker, and the air began to smell like lemon floor cleaner.

Then, with an almighty crack, like thunder but not quite as loud, the fog flashed once, electric white - Jack hadn't known electric white was a colour, apparently he'd learnt something today - and the lemon scent overpowered the cleaner scent.

And then, while he was blinking away the resulting spots, the fog went away. Half the yeti fell down, as though too exhausted to stand anymore. The others all sagged in place, even their fur looking limp.

"Ah," North said. Jack turned to look at him; North had gotten to the other side of the circle with Jack having realized it. Of course, North could have just walked around, no mystic teleportation required. "Never mind marks on floor. Come, we need to talk."

Jack shook himself off, and hurried over to Bunny's side. He glanced back at the yeti. "Uh, are they...?"

"They will be fine," North said, smiling faintly. "Enough yeti stayed out of ritual. Support staff will be here soon. They are just... shy."

Must have been. Jack had thought that all the yeti that worked for North were in the room. The idea that there'd be _more_...

He glanced back, just before the door closed behind him, and realized he knew who made up the support staff. At least, he was assuming that was a female yeti; half of Phil's size, with silky looking fur, and rather timid. Could've been switched, with the big guys really being girls and the little ones being the guys. Like birds of prey.

North was limping a little, but he still seemed more energetic than the yeti had. He kept quiet, though, until they'd reached one of the many sitting rooms in the workshop. Jack supposed North had so many just so he didn't have to tromp halfway across the complex just to put his feet up. At last count, there'd been something like fifteen, three yeti-only, five meant for people with human proportions, and the rest being of mixed furniture.

North might have added more since.

"You may want to take seat, Jack," North said, gesturing to one of the chairs. Jack eyed it dubiously, and perched on the arm. Bunny sat down beside him, and rested one hand on his knee.

"Bad news, I take it?" he asked lightly. Bunny had promised to teach him shapeshifting if the spell would take a while to break. So it wasn't like it'd be the end of the world. Heck, being unable to learn shapeshifting wouldn't be the end of the world either, just extremely uncomfortable and annoying.

"You may think so." North took a deep breath. "So. Do you know how a spell of Divination works?"

Jack's tail twitched back and forth. "Well, from what you said, it gives you information...?"

"Yes, it does. It is... as though I am reading book in a language I must translate word by word. So understanding is slow. And what spell told me..." North took another deep breath, and rubbed his hands together, as though the joints ached. "Spell told me you were born Pooka. That you spent most of your life human- _shaped_ , but not _human_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun... revelations! Of course, this means Jack's shapeshifting lessons should go really well now, since he's spent most of his life shifted already...


	20. Chapter Nineteen - I've got a Theory

Aster tightened his grip on Jack's knee, and pointed at North. "Get writing," he snapped. North jumped and stared at him; he curled his upper lip up off his teeth and flattened his ears. "You'll get more details writing it down, you _know_ that. Jack, mate, we won't know anything for sure until North's done writing."

"But -" Jack said, staring down at his hands. His claws were out, Aster noticed, and warily set part of his attention to keeping track of just what Jack was doing with them. He had no desire to bleed. "But he said -"

"I know what he said. But without all the details - look, just hold off the panic until we know everything North got from the spell."

Jack at least looked up at him. If he could've looked any more anguished, rocks would've started to cry. "You don't _understand_!" he wailed.

Had Jack grown overnight? It was harder to gather the Pooka Felis onto his lap and cuddle him, and Jack was barely moving. "So tell me," he said, murmuring into Jack's ear. "C'mon mate..."

"Jack!" North said, all but yelling. "What is this - you are _twenty-one_ in body?"

Jack stiffened, and his ears flattened down against his head. "Uh... Maybe?"

Aster clenched his teeth thoughtfully. "Huh," he said. "You don't look it."

"Noticed that," his mate muttered in return. "North, how'd you...?"

"Spell," North said, and went back to his writing. The soft scritching of his quill point against parchment filled the room.

Aster stroked one hand down the back of Jack's head and neck, and waited.

"I look like my dad," Jack whispered. "Supposed to, anyways. And I have mom's eyes, or I did, when they were brown... I _can't_ be adopted, Bunny."

"Would it mean they loved you any less?"

"That's not - if I _didn't look like them_ , but I _do_. And I looked like my brothers and sisters." He lifted his head, the better to stare into Aster's eyes. "I look like they did! Okay, not once I had my hair and eyes bleached by the moon, but before that! Everyone else in the village were blonds and red-heads. We were the only family with brown hair."

Aster frowned, and turned the thought over in his mind. "Pooka are shapeshifters," he offered. "Might've been you looked like them a-purpose, without realizing it."

Jack looked away. "Maybe."

Aster rubbed Jack's shoulders. "If you were adopted, would it mean much, really? They still loved you, didn't they? Raised you, taught you, cared for you." He smiled a little to himself. Laysh and Claek had certainly done that for him, after all. To be perfectly honest, he had no idea which Pooka Leporid family had been his, biologically speaking, and hadn't really cared. At least, not before the destruction of the Pooka, at which point he'd have happily claimed kinship with near about anyone, even someone five generations out-crossed from the parent species.

"I guess not," Jack admitted. He flexed his fingers, and his claws retracted. "That felt weird. But it kind of does matter - if I was adopted, did they find me as a Pooka kitten? Did they know? Or was I already shapeshifted before they found me? And... and if I was adopted, then where'd I come from?" He looked at Aster again, and raised his eyebrows.

Good questions, all of them... especially that last bit.

"There's spells," he offered, carefully feeling each word before saying it. "Magic that'll reach through space and time. Never heard of it being done on anything living before. Someone would have to be very desperate to do it."

"Like a mother," Jack said, looking down at his hands.

"Or a father," Aster confirmed. Well, technically Pooka hadn't used the terms 'mother' and 'father', exactly, but now wasn't the time for a language lesson. "Listen, Jack, from one adopted kid to you, who might've been adopted -" and what did it mean if Jack hadn't been adopted, but had been born Pooka? "- it doesn't matter how angry you get over it, you're going to still love them anyways. Just, you can't have a bloody great row with them, I suppose, since they're not here to yell back."

Jack leaned against his chest, and tucked his head under Aster's chin. "You were adopted?"

"Berserker," he said, and smiled bitterly. "Remember? M' birth parents couldn't handle it. I don't remember them." At least, he was fairly certain he didn't. And what did it matter? "My family - Pooka Canim - could. So I got adopted into the Canim clan."

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and curled up a little more. Aster was now sure Jack had grown some overnight, because even as small as he could go, the Felis was overflowing his lap. It wasn't just the tail and fur, either; he'd been smaller as a human.

Of course, as a human, Jack also looked all of fourteen. Maybe fifteen. And yet he was really twenty-one. That might've been a factor.

"What were they like?" Jack asked.

Aster glanced over at North, who was focusing on his writing. "Well, the Canim - did I tell you about them?"

"Wolves?" Jack said. "Like you're a rabbit and I'm a cat?"

"Yeah. Tall bastards, most of 'em were pretty lean. Laysh, he was about... seven feet tall? Would've been eight, except Canim would hunch forward a little. Just how they were built. M' clan were all dark-furred, but some of the other families in our town were red or gold in colour. I know my one brother, he took a pretty little sheila - or she wanted to be thought of as a sheila, anyways - for a mate, she looked like a German Shepherd, oversized ears and all."

Jack snickered, and nodded. "That's what they looked like. Not what they were like."

"Just giving you an idea," Aster said, and then he spoke quietly of his family. Laysh had been a great father, to use the English term, and Claek had been no more demanding of him than of her other children. They'd all, from adults down to the youngest pups, taken care not to hurt him; berserker he might be, but he'd always been just that much smaller and more fragile than the more battle-hardened Canim. He'd always come in last when it came to tracking games, not having their apparent instinctive awareness of how to follow a trail, but his ears had always been better and it'd let him gather a shocking amount of blackmail material over the years.

He hadn't been the baby of the pack, not after his three younger brothers were born. Varg had been the youngest, and he still remembered dragging the puppy around by the heels wherever they needed to go. It'd gotten to the point that Claek had forbidden him to do so, from the reasonable concern that Varg would never regrow the fur on his back, or learn to walk.

Jack chuckled a little at the story, and finished relaxing the rest of the way.

Of course that was when North put his quill down, and clapped his hands. Jack reacted just like a real cat would, jumping and digging his claws into the surface beneath him.

Unfortunately, that surface happened to be Aster's chest.

The Leporid bellowed, more from shock than actual pain, and Jack leapt off him - which did hurt. Not only pulling his finger-claws out, but his toe-claws had dug into Aster's thigh as Jack pushed off.

North looked, slowly, from Aster, clutching both his bleeding chest and bleeding thigh, up to Jack, clinging to one of the exposed rafters. "Did I startle you?" he asked.

Damn the rat-bastard! Aster bit back all the things he wanted to say, and merely grunted.

"So, I have finished recording all I learnt from the spell," North said. He reached up and stroked his moustache. "Very interesting. But you might listen better if you are not on the roof," he told Jack. "Come down. We will have hot cider and cookies for story time, yes?"

Ruddy bastard.

* * *

It took a little time to pry Jack down off the rafter. As it turned out, he'd gotten stuck, and hadn't been able to pull one hand free of the beam without hurting his claw-beds. Aster'd had to climb up, feeling faintly nauseous from the height, and unhook each claw one at a time. He'd been shaky when they'd gotten back down, and the 'story time' had been further delayed while he sat with a hot cloth over his forehead and eyes, and did his best to stop shaking.

"You don't normally have this reaction," Jack said, lifting one corner of the cloth. Aster swatted at him.

"It comes and goes," he admitted. "Dunno why it hit me so hard this time. Last time I'd been on a step-ladder - and that was _after_ helping North with his first sleigh." He'd been fine after the flight, more or less. A little motion sick, extremely grumpy, but it'd been the step-ladder that'd caused the problems. He'd about had a panic attack from being all of a foot and a half off the ground.

Jack lowered the cloth, and cuddled close. Aster turned his head a bit and breathed deeply; Jack's scent was lightly spiced with desire, but these days it usually was. And if he started to make a move on that desire, before Jack had learnt to shapeshift his 'female parts', as he put it, away... Well, not only would North be embarrassed to see them canoodling, but Jack would probably lash out with his claws again.

Aster honestly couldn't blame him. From everything Jack had told him, he'd had those parts forced on him, and the inevitable physical reactions were also forced on him. And there had been Pooka Leporid and Pooka Felis - not that he'd known any, but there'd been gossip - who'd been quite happy to stay with one set of sexual organs or the other. Most Canim, Equus, and Aquilae had spent their entire lives as a single sex.

Just because he didn't understand the mindset didn't mean he couldn't understand Jack's point of view.

"So!" North said, and from the sound of it, threw himself down onto his chair. "Story time!"

"Wanker," Aster said mildly. He pulled the cloth off, and set it on the side table. "Just gotta interrupt every moment, don't you?"

North beamed at him. "Of course! How else am I to have any fun?"

Jack snickered, and inclined his head to North. "What'd you find out?"

"First," North said, his tone turning as dry as the Sahara, "I did not hedge the spell about enough. Species and a little medical history. Family, too! Ah well, will all be useful, and will go into confidential lockup when done. No worries."

Jack raised his eyebrows and looked up at Aster, who shrugged back. "Don't look at me," he said. "Even when the yahoo is speaking English I'd swear he's talking Russian."

"Very funny," North said. "So, where shall I start?"

"At the beginning?" Jack suggested, looking up at the rafters.

"Fine. Very beginning - there was a big bang. Life started. Everyone agreed to be put out about it."

Aster covered his face with one hand. "Not that far back, North..."

"Fine, fine, be boring," North said, and waved one hand in dismissal. "To start _with Jack_ , then. I was only partially right, before. Is good thing procedure is to write everything down, brings more clarity."

"Only partially right?" Aster asked, his shoulders winching tight. "What do you mean?"

North looked... odd. "Well. Jack is only _half_ -Pooka. Your mother was human," he said, speaking to Jack directly.

Half-Pooka. Human mother.

What the bloody, buggering hell?

"That's impossible," he blurted. North and Jack both turned to look at him. "The only out-crosses had to have the _Pooka_ as the mum!"

"I am telling you what I found from the spell," North said, frowning. "According to what I got from the spell, Jack's father - ah, what were your parents' names?"

Jack looked sidelong at North. "The spell didn't tell you?"

"No," North admitted. "I am afraid not."

"My dad was called George, and my mom Charity. George and Charity Overland."

North nodded. "Thank you. According to spell, George was shapeshifted human. _Completely_ human." North raised his eyebrows. "You would know better than me what that means."

Compatible DNA, was what. Aster reached up and tugged lightly on one ear. "Maybe," he allowed. "I... I've never heard it happening. Not ever. Some species we just couldn't cross with at all."

"Just because it did not happen before, does not mean it cannot," North pointed out.

"Besides," Jack said, sounding highly amused. "I had seven sisters and nine brothers."

Seven and nine... and Jack... "Seventeen kids?" he asked, appalled. Even his own family, large by Pooka standards, hadn't gone over eight. Nine, including Aster, but he was adopted.

Jack shrugged. "Mom loved babies. She was never happier than when she was pregnant. And yes, all our birthdays and likes and dislikes were remembered, everyone got at least one item of new clothing a year, not hand-me-downs, and we never went hungry." He paused, considering, and added, "Y'know, dad being a Pooka Felis probably explains that. He did teach me everything I knew about hunting..."

"You said he'd died, and you were supporting the family," Aster said.

"Really?" Jack looked surprised. "When'd I do that? Never mind... Most of my siblings were older," he said. "They were moved out. Married and giving mom grand-babies, by the time that happened. It was just me, mom, my sister, and two younger brothers."

_Just_.

Aster kept his mouth shut, but he couldn't help but shake his head in admiration. Seventeen kids. Bloody hell. Apparently Pooka-human pairings resulted in high fertility.

"So Jack's mum was human," he said. "And Jack's half-human. And his dad..."

He sucked in a breath, eyes widening. "His dad was a Pooka," he said wonderingly, and looked down at Jack. "Another Pooka."

"Yes," North said, and waved his papers. "A pure blood, if spell is right."

Aster's jaw dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that I've shared this much... who's got guesses?


	21. Chapter Twenty - Alone Together

Aster secured a copy of North's notes, and then retreated in confusion to the Warren, Jack close on his heels. He took the tunnels slowly, to give his mate a chance to talk, but Jack remained silent. He wasn't sure whether to be worried about that or not; as ebullient and loquacious as Jack could be, he'd occasionally shown a quieter, more thoughtful side. And as for brooding, Aster had overheard Tooth saying something about brooding for Olympic gold, which made no sense.

He was fairly sure the Olympians hadn't awarded their athletes with gold, but what did he know? It wasn't like he followed the sports any.

When they reached the Warren proper, he moved over to a good spot for sprawling out. He stretched out on his stomach, papers at hand, and looked up at Jack.

"Just going to take a look-see through these," he said. "You want to join me, or stretch your legs?"

Jack hummed, and then sank down onto all fours. "This feels weird," he said, though it was obvious he wasn't talking entirely about the posture. "I think I'll join you."

And then he settled himself on Aster's back, curled up so his chin dug into one shoulder, hips into the small of Aster's back.

"That wasn't what I meant," Aster complained, though he didn't move to shrug Jack off. When all was said and done, his younger siblings had weighed more than the Pooka Felis - or was that half-Pooka? he wondered, then decided a Pooka was a Pooka - and really, Jack wasn't bothering him. It was actually rather nice, feeling his mate all cuddled up to him like that.

"It'll be easier to read over your shoulder this way," Jack pointed out. "Why'd you grab a copy? Not that I mind, but..."

"North likes to paraphrase. Note the twenty pages, and he summed it all up in twenty minutes? Maybe less." Twenty pages covered in North's tiny, painfully neat writing, both sides. Aster frowned at the first page, and began reading. As painfully neat as North's writing was, his spelling was equally atrocious. Granted, he'd come to literacy late in life, but even spacing and straight lines did not make up for spelling the word 'the' five different ways, none of them right, all in the same sentence.

He felt Jack snuffle at the side of his head, and then sigh. "I can't read it," the winter spirit admitted. "What's he even saying?"

"Takes practice to read North," he agreed. "At least he numbered each point, starting from the beginning - yours, I mean - and going on. Parentage, birth, childhood..." Or at least, that's what it looked like. North's notes were _very_ detailed.

Jack hummed, and rubbed his cheek against Aster's shoulder. "Okay. I guess I'll nap then."

On top of Aster, the little shit. Not that he minded.

He went back to deciphering North's spelling, grinning to himself.

* * *

"You broke your arm three times?" he asked, satisfied he'd gotten a good understanding of the information North had pulled out of the spell.

"Uh, yeah?" Jack purred, and stretched. It felt nice, if only because the Felis was all but writhing against Aster's back. "Just so you know, don't use a cast - okay, more like a splint - as a blunt weapon. Even if Paul deserved it."

"Paul?"

Jack huffed, and the tips of his teeth threatened Aster's ear. It felt good, the way Jack was nibbling at the base, but it wouldn't feel good if he gave Aster four new piercing holes. "Don't you already know?"

"Only that you broke your arm three times." Well, that, and that the second and third time had been more of a 're-break the arm before it fully heals' sort of situation.

"Fell out of a tree on my arm, then Paul kept following around my little sister making... suggestions." Jack growled low in his throat, and Aster felt the tip of the boy's tail brush over his heels. "I told him to cut it out, then clobbered him in the face. When he kept it up, I hit him again. And when he still didn't stop, I told my older brothers and let Leonard, Henry, and George deal with him."

Aster nodded, let himself dwell on the idea of Jack's... overly-large family and what might've happened if he'd met them... and then told himself to move on. "What happened to Paul?"

"He decided moving to New Amsterdam would be better for his health." Jack laughed, and rolled off Aster's back, landing on his side. "Considering the rest of the brothers had been clued in by that point, I think he had the right idea."

"Sounds like you lot acted more like the Italian Mafia," Aster pointed out. "Roughing up anyone you didn't like."

"Hey, hey, we were good Puritan... people." Jack frowned. "Except for the time Susan said she wasn't sharing her husband, with God or anyone."

"I don't want to know," Aster said, and yawned. "Right. Moving on."

Jack smiled, and then frowned. "When can we start shapeshifting lessons?" he asked, ears flattening. "This is getting really annoying."

Aster sneakily sniffed the air, and held the sigh in until it hurt. "Getting aroused with female parts?" he asked.

"It's weird and mildly painful, yes."

From the complaining Jack did, it sounded like it. From every other woman Aster had ever overheard, it most likely wasn't painful. Weird... well, Jack wasn't used to it. And didn't want to get used to it.

"Let me dig through my memory. We'll get started in the morning, how's that?"

Jack stared at him, eyes narrowed, and ears... odd. "I guess I'll let you live," he said. "What's for dinner?"

Aster rolled his eyes. Cats.

* * *

Growing up, Aster had been forced to sit through lesson after lesson about shapeshifting, everything from the more generic shifting of fur color, to height, to weight distribution, to the more specific shifting of sex and species. He'd written the tests - scored highly, too - but had been forbidden from participating in the practical side of the lessons. No one had wanted a berserker rampaging through the Pooka's equivalent of school, after all.

There'd been more than a few times where he'd gone home, and then tried to shapeshift, just like the teacher talked the other children through it. Tried to make himself taller. To change his fur color. To make himself look a little more like a Pooka Canim - nothing. Half the time he'd ended up having a berserk episode, his attempts having triggered his own version of shapeshifting.

Once he'd woken up in a cave, surrounded by a pack of arvo-wolves. Another time Laysh was there. He was pretty sure he'd given Tharin her first scar, and Vargrassen had told him that another time, he'd terrified the other Canim families.

In the end, he'd accepted his fate; and it wasn't so bad, having a static form. It made it easy for others to get him the generic clothing gifts. Gray fur was easy to dye different colors. He wasn't even that much shorter than other Pooka Leporid; half a foot, at most. The Canim had, one and all, thought him adorable - right up until he mastered his first martial art at sixteen and started kicking asses and taking names, and then he'd been desirable. Claek had threatened to declare open season and let him suffer the Canim idea of courtship, but Laysh had always stayed her hand.

With all that in mind, Aster supposed, by rights, he should have been put out at how quickly Jack grasped shapeshifting. He'd shown Jack the biological diagrams - admittedly, half of them were hand-drawn from what he remembered, and the other half had been borrowed from North's library - and then talked the Felis into the trance.

An hour later, Jack had opened his eyes, smelling completely male, and purring up a storm.

"I feel _so_ much better," Jack said, and stretched up against Aster. It pressed certain parts of his anatomy against certain parts of Aster's anatomy, and Aster grinned.

"Glad to hear it." He rested his hands on Jack's hips, to keep him close. And balanced. Of course balanced.

"Do I have to concentrate on this twenty-four-seven? Because I'll forget, I swear I'll forget."

At that, the Leporid rolled his eyes. "You're kidding me, right? No, you don't. Leastwise, I never heard of it happening. And you know how to fix it, just in case."

"True," Jack agreed, and stepped away. Aster scowled. "What? I'm just going topside for a bit to check in on the kids! Show off the tail, you know."

Jack grinned. Aster scowled more. "We got a meeting at North's," he pointed out.

"I'll meet you there. Seriously, I'm just going to go say hi, remind people I'm not dead, I'll be at North's before you, probably."

Before Aster could protest - he'd gotten _ideas_ , thank you very much - Jack had whirled around and taken off, making several bounding leaps before flying towards the tunnels.

He sighed, and shook his head. He'd have to find something else to do, then, because he sure wasn't going to show up at North's _early_.

* * *

He should've shown up at North's early, if only so he could understand what the hell was going on.

Aster hit the proverbial dirt, and an elf flying a bi-winged prop-plane buzzed through the spot where his head had been seconds before. The plane didn't look remote controlled, and it was sized properly for the elf. And now, on the ground, he was able to see more elves, walking in quasi-ordered lines. They weren't using their knees, and they were flapping their arms in time with their steps, looking as much like ducks as the short, pointy-headed menaces could get.

More planes buzzed the work floor, and yeti howled in what Aster judged to be rage. Or something. Who the hell knew, they were _yeti_. They had meltdowns over the strangest things, their language was entirely too... yowling... for him to understand, and one and all they had terrible breath.

A great, hairy mitt grabbed him by the scruff and _lifted_. Aster snarled, even as he dangled a foot above the floor. One of the yeti - Clive or Jeeves or Alfred or something - peered at him, as if he was some strange, new species of plant that needed to be sampled and regrown in lab conditions to see what made him tick. It was a very strange, intense look, and if he didn't stop it right now Aster was going to use his toe claws on the bugger's vulnerable underbelly, just see if he didn't!

The yeti dropped him, and Aster almost stumbled from the suddenness. He sucked in a deep, desperate breath, and breathed out with relief. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded, once he'd gotten himself re-oxygenated. "What the - I'm an _adult_ , you blithering idiot! Y'only lift a _kitten_ by the scruff, you lift _me_ and you're strangling me, you - I'm going to tear your kneecaps out and use them for coasters, you hear me!"

He was interrupted before he could continue, or the yeti could react. Thankfully. Like the Canim, the yeti were ridiculously strong for their size. And had tempers.

"Bunny!" Jack cackled like a mad thing, and then dropped down out of _freaking nowhere_ \- probably the rafters - and scared several decades off Aster's life.

The yeti howled, apparently appreciating neither the claws digging through fur and into skin, or the way Aster had used his head as a launching point to cross half the room in a single bound. He landed on the stairs, and whirled, one hand on his chest over his pounding heart, the other out in a vague approximation of a martial stance. It was rather hard to prepare himself to break bones when he still felt half-scared out of his skin.

Jack stood - sort of - beside the yeti, clinging to his staff like his life depended on it, laughing his fool head off.

The yeti snarled, and swiped at Jack. Jack either expected that, or just had long experience with irate yeti, because he dodged, still laughing. While the yeti collected himself to attack again, Jack jumped, hitting a peak of twelve feet off the floor, and flew over to the stairs, dodging several planes as he went. These ones, Aster saw, with some bemusement, were definitely remote controlled and looked like WW2 England's bombers, whatever they'd been called.

They were chasing the elf-flown planes with extreme prejudice, and shot paintball guns.

"Elf revolution, or revolt, or something like that," Jack said, and dropped down out of the air. "Hey, fur-belly, we were starting to think you'd forgotten."

"You can't call me that, anymore," Aster said. And once he'd said it, he had to wonder why he'd bothered. There were so many other things to say and he'd chosen _that_?

Jack laughed again, though it quieted down into a loud, rhythmic purr quickly enough. "Is that so?" he asked, somehow talking over the purring. Or through the purring. "Why's that, Cottontail? Because I've got a fur-belly too?" Jack tapped his lips with the crook of his staff, before grinning in a way that should have sent sane men running.

Aster realized sane was no longer something he could use to describe himself as, because all he felt at the sight of that grin was a tightness low in his stomach.

Not in public, he reminded himself. Later, in private, he'd have to show Jack just what that smile did to him. Now that Jack had the shapeshifting down, he might even get away without any scratches.

"Y'know, Bunny, you could always call me fur-belly back," Jack suggested, reaching over to trail the tips of his claws up along Aster's hip and side, but only just touching. It was... surprisingly erotic, and Aster realized he was calculating a route to a storage closet at about the same time as he swayed towards Jack, reaching out for the Felis' shoulders.

Jack snickered, and jumped up onto the railing. "Ah-ah, Bun-bun, no touchy. We have a meeting to get to, you know."

Aster hissed, but followed Jack up to the next level. The Frostbite had a point, he supposed.

After, he promised himself. After the meeting, come hell or high water, he was dragging that annoying, alluring cat back to his Warren, and demonstrating exactly why it was a bad idea to rile up a billions-of-years-old Pooka Leporid.

In the mean time, he had a meeting to get through, and the afters to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how tempting it was to simply name this chapter "I hate giving chapters titles", seriously, I spent five minutes staring at the screen. Very tempting to go back and just change it all to "Arc One, Chapter one" and such.
> 
> Also, Jack is now a happy kitty, as he is a male-only kitty and no longer has to deal with weird, female-only sensations. He's still going to get the Pooka Felis version of heat. Lamps will be molested, Aster will get bit, the other Guardians will be both laughing themselves sick and running for their sanity.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One - Changeling Child

"Oh my god Jack!" Tooth actually flew a foot higher in the air, kicking her feet and squealing. "You're adorable!"

Jack froze in the doorway, the fur along his shoulders and spine starting to fluff up. "Uh," he said. "Thanks?"

Aster smirked, and shoved his mate into the room. "Yer gonna get it," he whispered, just loud enough for Jack's new hearing, quietly enough the others wouldn't hear him. Well, most of the others; Sandy shot him an amused, yet chiding look, and smirked. Meh, stars. Even former stars.

Jack coughed, and looked around the room, before making the mistake of smiling at Tooth. "So, Tooth -"

"Oh! Your _teeth_!" Tooth shot forwards.

Jack yowled in shock, and then again when Tooth pried his mouth open to poke at his new dentures. Aster chuckled, and sat down on the couch. Sandy toasted him with a cup of eggnog.

It took Jack several minutes to free himself from Tooth's inspection, time in which North arrived, took one look at what was going on, and burst out laughing. Jack's escape likely owed as much to his flailing and determination as Tooth's distraction in chiding North for being rude.

Jack all but dove onto the couch, staff dropping down beside Aster's feet. The Felis buried his face in Aster's side, almost like he was trying to squirm between Aster's back and the couch, and whined.

"Tough luck," Aster said, and scratched gently along Jack's spine, as much as he could reach without twisting about awkwardly. "Give her a few goes and she'll settle, she always does."

"I could taste her hand lotion," Jack moaned. Thankfully he was quiet enough, due to the way he was trying to hide in Aster's fur, that Tooth didn't hear him.

Aster snorted, and slapped Jack's side. "Suck it up."

Jack muttered something in response that Aster... didn't want to try deciphering, actually. Not that he spoke aggrieved muttering very well, but he had a feeling Jack had either insulted Aster's parentage, or said something inappropriate for public.

"So!" North announced, sounding gleeful. Aster would never understand why that idiot seemed to enjoy getting yelled at by Tooth. Of course, North seemed to think everything Tooth said and did was wonderful - and he wasn't about to argue, since she'd probably punch him in the mouth for implying otherwise - but still. "This is first meeting in a while! We mustn't get in habit of skipping, is very important -"

"Yeah, yeah," Aster cut in. "Team bonding, all that. We get it, North, we don't need the speech." But he smiled, to take the sting out of his words.

North huffed, shook his head, and bellowed something in Russian. Jack sat up at that, ears twitching and a disturbing gleam in his eye. To be honest, Aster wasn't at all comfortable with that expression. He wrapped his arm around his mate's waist, and held tight.

Jack glanced over at him, and smirked. "What, you think you can keep hold of me?" he asked.

"Do I have to?"

"Oh, please," Jack said, and turned to look at the yeti entering the room. "I'm way too sneaky for you."

Nope. No good feelings at that look. At _all_.

"The paint in the river doesn't stop being paint if someone takes it out in a bucket, right?" Jack asked, and Aster covered his eyes with one hand.

"Don't dye the yeti pastel colors, Jack."

Jack just lashed his tail once, and looked haughty.

"Bring us snack food," North ordered the yeti. Tooth smacked him on the shoulder, so he amended, "And healthy options. Also, drinks! Yes, Tooth, water too."

Aster rolled his eyes.

Jack turned and draped himself over Aster like an electric blanket, one with a 'purr' function. At least his lap was warm. Aster hummed in response, and started stroking the back of the Felis' neck.

"You look like every cat owner everywhere," Tooth said, settling down in her seat. She wrinkled her nose, presumably at whatever expression Jack had, and added, "Or perhaps that's cat minion? Either way."

Jack sniffed, and rolled over onto his back. "You're all just jealous of my awesome tail."

"It is very fluffy," Tooth agreed. "Oh, and your _teeth_!"

Jack covered his mouth with one hand.

North threw himself into his chair as if it'd offended him, and laughed. "So! Jack, you have adjusted finally, I see, to new shape."

Sandy waved his arms, and formed a giant question mark over his head. And then - only long experience enabled Aster to even guess at what the images meant - asked what North meant by that.

"You _have_ noticed Jack's fluffy now, right?" Aster asked. Sandy frowned at him. "Just checking, mate, no worries."

Sandy frowned a little more, and then turned to North and repeated the string of images. With emphasis.

"Jack is actually half-Pooka," North explained. Tooth made a shrill, squeaky noise, and both Pooka flinched. She didn't seem to notice. "Father was Pooka, mother was human. Bunny keeps saying it should be other way around, but bah. What does he know?"

"I dunno," Jack muttered. "Pooka stuff?"

Aster huffed, and nodded in agreement.

Tooth made the shrill, squeaky noise again, and Jack sat up in a hurry. "Hey, I've got news," he said, in the deliberate tone of false cheer Aster was well acquainted with. Granted, usually he overheard it in parents and pet owners.

"News?" Tooth asked, calming down. Very slightly.

"Yeah, news. Stopped by at the kids," Jack said. Aster didn't even have to think about who 'the kids' were; Jack had a growing collection of believers, but only one group was ever referred to as 'the kids'; his original group, championed by Jamie, Sophie's big brother.

Aster might have paid rapt attention to Jack's stories about his visits with Jamie, if only because he got to hear about Sophie.

"How are they?" he asked.

Jack looked sly. "You mean how's Sophie, don't you? Don't deny, cottontail, it's totally true. And she's fine. Going through a phase," he added, and made a face.

"A phase?" North asked, before Aster could.

"Yeah," Jack drawled. "A 'tear all her clothes off and run around naked' phase. Because Bunny does." He turned and looked at Aster again. "Jamie all but shoved me into the air, telling me to go away because I'd make it worse."

"You - what?" Human sprogs ran around in the nude? That didn't seem right...

"Yeah," Jack said again. "See, around the age of... two? Three? Toddler, anyways, human kids do not like clothes. They like tearing around naked as the day they were born, though with a lot more mobility. Probably a game if the delighted shrieking means anything," he added, and shrugged. "Anyways, by the time they're four or five, they have discovered the wonders of snugly warm pyjamas when it's cold out, brightly coloured t-shirts, and running down the street naked is the quickest way to get yelled at. So they wear clothes."

"I'm... following you," Aster said, very slowly. Sure, Pooka had clothes, sort of, but when everyone was covered in fur or feathers, clothing was less about covering up and more about personal style, extreme weather conditions, military ranks... It wasn't generally an everyday thing.

"Well, Sophie should be past the naked stage," Jack said, tail flicking back and forth as he talked. "Should be, except she's kinda got an obsession about you, Easter Hare."

Aster reached up and covered his face with both hands. "She's been tearing about in the nude, hasn't she?" he asked.

"That would be correct," Jack confirmed. "Mrs. Bennett is furious, and if she could see you? She'd kill you. Very dead. Multiple stab wounds. And quite possibly no jury would convict her, because, you know. Kid's been pulling this stunt in school."

Aster groaned. North, the bastard, started chuckling. Tooth started chiding him. And who the hell knew what Sandy was doing; he wasn't about to lower his hands and check.

"It's okay, teacher is... mostly understanding and has figured out how to very quickly get Sophie back into her clothes, and everything would be just fine if Soph hadn't started a _trend_ among the other kids." He knew, just knew, that Jack was staring at him, utterly deadpan but for the light of the deranged in his eyes. "Jamie, meanwhile, has been dealing with this at home."

"Oh no," Aster groaned.

"Mmhm. Yup. We have been banned, my fluffy one. Banned and banished unless and until we show up wearing clothes."

"Banned and banished are two different things," Tooth pointed out.

Jack waved it off, hand bumping against Aster's shoulder. "Sush, don't ruin my alliteration."

"Bunny in clothes!" North roared, and then just roared with laughter. After several minutes, he calmed down enough to choke out, "Christmas has come early!" and then went back to laughing.

Aster lowered one hand, just so he could pull a boomerang free and toss it at North. The resulting yelp was very satisfying.

"Anyways," Jack said, and stretched. He ended up draped against Aster again. "That's my news."

North rubbed his head, and picked up the 'rang. It'd bounced off North's thick skull and made it all the way to the floor. Might've gone dead, now that he thought about it; this set was a good century, century and a half old. If the 'rang was dead, well, he'd have to get carving some new ones. Be wrong to break up a duo like he currently had.

"I think we need to talk the serious," North said, and tried to point the 'rang at Aster. It slipped free of his fingers and hit the ground.

Aster didn't bother to hide his smirk. Not quite dead after all, the beaut.

"About what?" Tooth asked, echoing Sandy.

"Pitch."

Sandy rolled his eyes and, if the gesturing and the pictures meant anything, said 'always with Pitch! You are obsessed!' Either that, or Aster was projecting again. It happened.

North frowned at Sandy. "You must admit, he is insistent on causing trouble. Centuries he is quiet, but now he is active all the time. New weapon - well, weapon is generous, but is very frustrating, yes?"

Aster shivered, and wrapped an arm over Jack's shoulders. "If I don't have those hallucinations ever again, it'll be too soon," he said.

Jack grumbled in what was presumably agreement, and sunk his claws into Aster's shoulder. Because of course he did.

"Oy!" Aster reached up and pulled Jack's hands off - and _out of_ \- his flesh. "Cut that out!"

"Sorry! It just _happens_."

"Do we need to get you two a closet?" Tooth asked.

Jack sat up, ears pricked forward and eyes wide. "Is that an option? Can we do that?" He turned to Aster. "We can do that, right?"

"Tha - you - no, Jack. That's not an option." Not in North's overblown shrine to Christmas, anyways. And any closet in Tooth's Palace would be full of dental hygiene products, with his luck. Sandy didn't even have closets. And why would they spend any time in Aster's closets when there was a nice, comfortable nest in the bedroom?

Jack stared at him just a touch too long to be anything but creepy. "That's what you think," he finally said, and turned his back. "What was that about Pitch, North?"

North picked up the 'rang again, and then tossed it towards Aster. It was a piss poor toss, even for, say, a baseball or something, but it made it within reach before hitting the ground again. "I am thinking we need to be proactive. Instead of waiting for him to show, we go to lair and deal with him before he is ready for us."

"We'll need something to cover our mouths with," Tooth pointed out. "Or we'll probably end up breathing in more of that nightmare dust."

"Gas masks," Jack suggested.

"Silk scarf," Aster countered. "Those masks are bloody uncomfortable. Goggles, too, keep it out of the eyes."

"Scarves sound better than a gas mask." Tooth looked over at Aster. "If you supply the goggles, I'll bring the scarves."

North clapped his hands, and beamed. "We have plan, then, very good! And after, I will find clothes for our Bunny and Kitty."

Aster watched as Jack realized what nickname he'd just been settled with, and then twirled the 'rang around his fingers while Jack launched himself at North, hissing and spitting in rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, no end notes today, I'm not feeling 100% after my driving phobia decided to give me issues today. (For the record, country roads with no lights are hell to navigate in the rain without a working GPS. The shaking was perfectly justified.)


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two - Hold Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings - SMUT.  
> You have now been warned, you may now continue

The instant he had Jack in the tunnel, Aster spun and pressed the Felis against the sidewall. Jack yelped, and then smirked at him.

"Oh yeah," Aster growled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. "You know what 'm gonna do to you."

"Oh, please," Jack said, and laughed. "You're all talk."

Aster growled again, and pressed a little more of his weight up against Jack. The Felis hiccupped on another laugh, and then rested his fingers on Aster's shoulders. "Ah got ya now," Aster said, pleased with how Jack's pupils were dilating. Oh, but Jack smelt _good_. The spice of desire mixed through his scent, the sweet musk of an adult Felis, crisp winter-green, all wrapped up in Aster's own scent.

Just the way it was supposed to be.

Ten claws pricked through his fur, and he growled a warning. Jack shuddered; had he felt it, when the growl vibrated through Aster's chest? With how closely they were pressed against each other, he must have.

"Bunny," Jack breathed, and blinked several times in rapid succession. "S-so, you got me. What're you gonna do with me?"

Aster grinned, and took a deep breath. "'m gonna _eat_ you."

Jack had half a second to look confused, for his smirk to falter and his fingers to relax, and then Aster bent his neck and bit down on Jack's ear.

Jack squealed and bucked against him. Aster chuckled darkly, clamped his hands down on Jack's hips, and tugged on Jack's ear with his teeth. Carefully. Oh, so carefully. He wanted to turn Jack's brain into mush, not hurt him.

He must've hit everything just right, because Jack squealed again, and his claws raked through the thick ruff along Aster's upper back. It sounded like he was trying to talk, but fuck if Aster was going to waste the brainpower to listen too closely. If things went somewhere his mate didn't want them to, he'd notice, but otherwise...

Yeah. Busy now.

He switched attention to Jack's other ear, and laughed inwardly. It was... astonishing how quickly Jack had fallen apart. And Aster had barely touched him. It had to have been the new sensation of having his ears played with. What other reason was there for Jack to be mewling and shaking like that? And, oh-hoh, what was that all hard and warm against Aster's thigh?

"Bunny, Bunny, Bunny," Jack chanted, and tried to writhe helplessly.

Aster hummed, and let go of Jack's ear. "Yeah, mate?" He slid his thigh a little more between Jack's legs, just a smidgen more pressure against that hard length.

"I -" Jack said, and then went stiff. His eyes rolled up, and his claws were surely drawing blood.

And a couple spurts of warm, musky smelling liquid covered Aster's thigh.

Aster looked down, at where Jack's penis was going limp and retracting back into his sheathe, and then back up at Jack's face. "I barely touched you!" Hadn't even gotten hard yet himself.

Pooka couldn't blush, but Jack was doing the equivalent. His ears went back, and he ducked his head. "I - yeah, but I - it was... good."

"Glad to hear it," Aster said, and helped Jack sink down to the floor of the tunnel. "But, uh, I was barely doing anything."

Jack hunched his shoulders, and ducked his head even more. Despite that, and how he mumbled, Aster still heard him clearly.

"A virgin?" he blurted. Jack twitched, and didn't look at him.

Oh. That explained the hair-trigger. And... oh... a virgin.

"Well now," he said, very near to purring. "Frostbite, you are a treat." He ignored Jack's sullen glare, and bent down to scoop his mate up. Thank goodness he'd opened one of the bigger tunnels, so he could actually walk down it. "'M gonna show you all the good things 'bout this new form of yours, and then, when you shapeshift back human, 'm gonna show you again."

Jack's eyes widened, and his constricting pupils dilated again. "Uh, show me?" he asked, voice quavering ever so slightly.

"Everything," Aster promised him, and held his mate a little tighter.

* * *

He kept hold of Jack all the way to the nest, and only then did he let his mate fall to the cushions. Jack yelped, and flailed his arms. Aster took a deep breath, and chuckled. Scent alone would have told him exactly how excited Jack was, now, but the visual hints only added to it. His eyes, just thin rims of deep blue around the dark abyss that were Jack's pupils, blown wide, the way Jack's chest heaved as he sucked in breath after breath. The tip of his penis, bright pink against his white fur, just starting to poke back out of his sheathe.

"Look at you," Aster breathed, feeling himself respond - with emphasis - to Jack's appearance, his scent, to Jack himself. "Crikey, mate, you're a beaut."

"Yeah?" Jack asked, and lifted his chin. "Gotta wonder about that, you're not doing anything."

Other than look, but good point. "Right then," he said, and moved to kneel down beside Jack. "I think now's a good time for a bit of Pookan anatomy, am I right?"

Jack groaned, and grabbed his arm. "Yeah. The ears? What the hell - it felt amazing."

"Sensitive, aren't they?" Aster murmured, and then leaned down to nuzzle one. Jack groaned, so he gave the ear-tip a quick lick. He slowly moved down, nose brushing the side of Jack's face. "We don't kiss, by the way."

"Wah... tryin' t' fig- figure it out," Jack said, somehow talking. Aster clearly needed to work harder. Jack's poor, virgin senses had to be going haywire, and Aster got harder at the thought. He hadn't had this much fun during sex since he'd been a virgin himself, and then he'd been half-drunk and high off adrenaline.

This was better.

"We do this, instead." He pressed the side of his muzzle against Jack's, so their whiskers brushed and pressed against each other's cheeks, and oh the sensations it sent down his spine!

Jack whimpered, and tried to squirm closer. "Bunny...!"

"Patience, Jackie. We've only just started. The whiskers feel good like this, don't they?" He hummed, and rubbed his cheek against Jack's, mixing their scents. "Bet you can smell me. Bet I don't smell half as good as you do, all spicy musk and arousal."

"Liar," Jack muttered, and opened his mouth. He breathed in, upper lip wrinkling back, tongue curling just the slightest bit. A Felis was cat-enough the term 'flehmen response' probably was the right one. Aster really had to wonder at himself, that he was thinking about something other than how to best make Jack scream in pleasure.

His mate shivered, and breathed out. "Oh my god," he groaned, and fell back against the cushions.

"Powerful sense, scent," Aster murmured, lips close to Jack's whiskers. The Felis shivered again, and closed his eyes.

After a few seconds, Jack licked his lips - Aster followed the path of that tongue with great interest - and spoke. "Jus' keep doin' what you're doin'."'

"As you like, Frostbite." Aster frowned when Jack's nostrils twitched - at the nickname? Or just breathing in? Something to think about... later.

He moved his attention slowly down Jack's body, lingering over the neck - the one sad thing about fur, it covered up the signs of hickies far, far too well - and then nuzzled the center of Jack's chest.

"Fun fact," he said, and carefully stroked one hand from Jack's collar down to just above his navel. "We've got more muscles about our core than humans do. Longer and narrower ones, which is why, you might have noticed..." He nuzzled Jack's chest again. "We don't have the same kind of pectorals a human would have."

"Noticed," Jack said, between gasps. Aster hummed, and let his hands wander up and down, Jack's front, his sides, the tops of his shoulders and down to his hips, and back again. Jack's breath hitched, and he started to purr under his breath.

Aster grinned, and shifted. It was starting to get a little painful, down south, hard and aching as he was. But some things a bloke had to take his time with, or it wouldn't be right. And while lust crazed, grabby hands and racing for the finish line had its place, said place was not in the first time - or first dozen times - with a new mate. Or with a virgin. Especially not with a new, virgin mate.

"You'd think, with all the fur," he said, and started stroking his fingers through Jack's fur, to the skin beneath. "You'd think, well, might be we've got nipples, but they can't be as sensitive as a human, can they? And you'd be a touch right about that."

He found what he was looking for, Jack's nipples, a little lower, proportionally speaking, than they'd been on his human shape. Smaller, too. But...

"You'd be wrong," he whispered, and gave them both a little tweak.

Jack about arched off the cushions, his yowl sliding into a long, pleased moan. His moan mixed with his purr, and Aster about came from the sound alone.

It was a little embarrassing, to be honest. On the other hand...

It was a really sexy sound.

He played with Jack's nipples for a bit, just fingers, no tongue or teeth - this time - before moving further down Jack's body. He used the time spent caressing Jack's stomach and hips to get himself under control, and give Jack a bit of time to catch his breath.

"Right then," Aster said, and cleared his throat. He looked down at Jack's prick, and grinned. It was a little longer than he'd expected, honestly, and a bit thicker about the tip, though still within what was - or had been - normal for Pooka. Probably just a result of Jack's human heritage, one way or another. Not as dangly as human bits were, though; Jack's balls were tucked up against his body for the higher temperature, just as with every other Pooka that had ever been born, and he didn't have that weird mushroom-tip to his prick human males had.

"Right then," he said again, and traced one finger over Jack's prick, tip to sheath, and then down the sheath to his balls. "Now we come to this part." And he traced his finger just a little lower, past the spot where - if Jack had kept his female bits - his slit would've been, to his ass. Jack twitched, and lifted his head to look down at him.

"Yeah?" Jack asked, and frowned slightly.

"Up to you, mate," Aster said, and caressed Jack's hole.

Jack visibly thought about it, but not for long. "No female bits. Go ahead."

Well. Aster wasn't going to complain about topping. Not for a good long while, at least, though if Jack thought he was going to bottom exclusively, he'd just have to be surprised later on. "I'll just get something for lube."

"If you take forever, I'm taking matters into my own hands."

"Please." He might not have had a bedside table, but he did have a good sized dresser, more for the inevitable junk - and grooming tools - that ended up in practically every bedroom. Including a drawer that held, among other things, a jar of lotion that was better lube than anything humans sold, and the odd sex toy. Or ten.

He'd been single a long time. He had every right to have a couple sex toys.

"There we go," he said, and returned to the nest. Jack grinned, and then his gaze traveled down to Aster's current pride and joy, at the apex of his thighs. His prick was about average, or at least, had been, compared to other Pooka. A little shorter, actually, and thicker at the base, narrowing to a blunt point. Yet the way Jack looked at it, it was clear he thought Aster had something rather special between his legs...

Well. Actually, he looked at Aster's prick the way he looked at a plate of oysters. Aster just figured that wasn't an _actual_ "I'm going to eat that" expression, so much as the metaphorical "let me eat you" expression.

"See something you like?" he asked, and knelt down again. He reached over with one hand, and nudged Jack's legs apart, so he had enough room to shift and kneel between them.

"Do you have to give a court ordered warning or something before you put that in me?" Jack asked, and grinned.

"No warnings," Aster promised, and unscrewed the jar lid.

"Pity," was Jack's opinion. He propped himself up on his elbows, and watched as Aster slicked himself up. He frowned when Aster set the jar aside without slicking up Jack's hole, but didn't comment.

"We're Pooka," Aster reminded him. "Besides, even if we did need as much prep work as a human did, would you really want claws inside you?" He held up one hand, fingers flexed to emphasise the points of his claws, as example.

Jack rolled his eyes back, making a show of thinking about it. "I'd be willing to experiment," he said finally. "But if you say you don't have to slick me up, go for it."

"I do say," Aster promised. "And believe me, you don't want claws. There's good pain, like when you scratch at my shoulders while we do this stuff, and then there's bad pain that'd have you trying to rip my hand off at the wrist."

Jack blinked at him. "Point. You were doing something else?"

He grinned, and shifted until he was all but lying on Jack, hovering over him, propped up on his elbows and knees. "Think you're ready, Jackie?"

"Try me." Jack paused, ears flicking back and forth. "What do I do with my legs?"

"For the moment, nothing. Might try wrapping 'em around my hips later, if you can remember," Aster said. Then he reached down with one hand, lined himself up, and started to push in.

Jack gasped, eyes going wide and then clenching shut. His face kept twisting, and his entire body clenched down at the intrusion. Aster paused, and waited for Jack to relax. When he did, he pushed in another half-inch, Jack would tense, and he'd pause. And repeat, until he was hilted in Jack, unable to get any further in, any closer to Jack.

"Good?" he asked, and nuzzled his mate's jaw.

The Felis panted, though his gasps had a suggestion of purr to them. "Yeah," he said. "Just - need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," Aster told him. He needed a minute or two himself; Jack was so tight it was hard not to come just from the pressure all about his prick.

And oh, sweet fucking... fuck... Jack was warm, too, completely unexpected but not unwelcome, but the surprise of it had him teetering on the very edge and clinging to control with his claw-tips. A part of him wanted to come out, fangs bared and six arms threatening, but he pushed it down with surprising ease. Another part of him wanted to let go and tumble into an abyss, but he wasn't about to orgasm before Jack did.

He wasn't going to be that rude.

"Okay," Jack said, and turned his head to press his cheek to Aster's. "Move."

"Yes," Aster said, and slid out of Jack almost to the tip, and then back in. He moved slow and careful, focusing on every hitch in Jack's breath, every twitch of his ears and whiskers, on the way Jack gasped his name and clutched Aster's arms like they were the only things keeping him from flying apart.

He focused on how Jack managed to wrap one leg around Aster's hips, how Jack tried to shift to meet each thrust but couldn't quite co-ordinate his efforts with Aster's slow slide in and out.

And when Jack relaxed, fully, and tilted his head back to bare his neck, Aster lost it.

He didn't black out, not quite, but something almost like a berserk rage took him. He wrapped one arm around Jack's shoulders and pulled the Felis to him, lifting and pinning and locking his teeth on that sleek neck, digging his teeth in to mark, to claim. He snarled, and thrust, and tore Jack screaming over the edge with him into oblivion.

After some time - seconds, minutes, hours, he didn't know - he lifted out of the darkness, just enough to roll the both of them onto their sides, still tangled up together and with semen drying their fur into sticky clumps. He had too many arms, but it felt the most natural thing in the world to wrap them all around Jack, holding his mate close and safe.

Aster nuzzled Jack's ear, pulled a blanket over them with one arm, and sighed. Jack snuffled at the base of his neck.

He felt... content. And it was the easiest thing in the world to slide back into the darkness, and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWENTY-THREE CHAPTERS AND WE FINALLY HAVE TEH SEXXORS! About time, right? Next chapter, cuddles, more cuddles, and maybe a side of cuddles. I might be able to fit in some plot in there, somewhere, you know, if there's room for it between the cuddles.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three - Lay all Your Love On Me

Consciousness tiptoed up to his side, and tapped Aster on the shoulder. He hummed, and shifted, becoming aware - as one did - of being awake, but too damn content to do anything about it. He felt too damn content to move, so comfortable he felt just the slightest bit like he was floating, and everything just seemed really, really good. The events of last night were at the forefront of his mind, and mingled with the relaxing feeling of someone stroking a soft brush over his shoulders. The memory and sensation mixed together, until it was really hard to remember just what had happened, and what was happening.

"I know you're awake," Jack said, his voice low and deliciously throaty. Aster couldn't keep from shivering, and wouldn't even if he could. "You might as well face the music and open your eyes."

"Mm." Jack sounded good. Good enough that he wondered if he'd be able to replay any part of last night. Aster rolled onto his back - the brushing stopped, which was sad, but started up again over his chest, which was good - and cracked one eye open.

"Hello there, love," he murmured.

Jack beamed at him, and continued brushing. "We're a mess," he said, and then waggled the brush in the air. "Or, you are. I already took care of myself. Thought about a bath, decided I'd brush it out, and what do you know, it does."

After a moment, Aster realized Jack was talking about the dried semen still clumping his fur, and chuckled. "You'll reek like me without a bath," he pointed out.

Jack did an incredible dubious expression. "To human noses?"

"No."

"Then I fail to see the downside."

Aster couldn't really see the downside either. Well, the way he itched where the semen had dried was uncomfortable, but a bit of brushing would fix that. And then he'd smell like Jack until his next bath... in a century or two, he decided. Smelling like Jack didn't have any downsides.

"Gimme the brush." He held one hand out for it, and ignored Jack's smirk. "You'll try not to hurt yanking the tangles out, and that's stupid. Faster if I do it myself."

"You make a good argument," Jack said, and surrendered the brush surprisingly quickly. He winced in apparent sympathy when Aster tore the brush through the clumps of fur, losing tufts as he went. Not enough to give him a bald spot, thankfully, but he'd be a bit tender low on the stomach for a few days.

"Alright," he said, and handed the brush back. "You may continue."

Jack burst out laughing, though not for very long. "Sorry," he said. "But - I swear, Cottontail, you make a better cat than I do."

Aster frowned, and got comfortable. "That is a filthy lie, Frostbite."

His mate's amused expression twitched, for a second not fitting his face _quite_ right. Aster frowned, as his brain helpfully tossed up the last time that'd happened. During sex, no less, which was not the time or place for uncomfortable twitching... or spare brainpower to notice such tiny signs.

"Jack?"

"Huh?" Jack started brushing at Aster's chest again, each careful stroke of the brush followed up by a teasing 'scratch' from his claws. Aster could barely feel it. "What's up, Doc?"

Momentarily derailed, Aster stared at Jack. Not that it was a hardship. "Y'know, I don't have a doctorate, Jack. From this century."

"I... don't know where you're going with this."

"Why're you calling me doctor?"

Jack pursed his lips, and then sighed. "I don't know if this ignorance is hilarious or depressing. Quite probably both. I'm comfortable saying both."

Aster narrowed his eyes, and wrapped one arm around Jack's waist. Pulled him a little closer. "Ignorance?" he asked, deliberately dropping his voice down a register.

Jack purred, and leaned forward. "Oh, Cottontail, you have missed out on so many things... Later. We'll discuss that later." He shifted, and then winced.

"Jack?" Aster pushed himself up on his elbows - and there was something odd about that, but there were more important things to focus on - and frowned. "You right, mate?"

Jack shrugged, and looked to the side. "Little sore."

Oh. Aster relaxed, but stayed propped up. "Ah. Should've figured."

Jack looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he asked, worlds of meaning in the tone. And in the way he flexed his fingers, extending his claws.

"Yeah," he said, and snorted. "Think about it. Something you've never done before, what happens? You get sore. Could be worse," he added, and looked up at the ceiling. "My first time, I limped for two days."

Jack tapped his claws on the brush handle. "Do I need to retroactively wish someone dead?"

"Don't have sex half-drunk with a Canim," Aster said dryly. Sure, they'd had fun, but it wasn't like they'd been in a serious relationship. And they'd both been virgins, so neither of them had quite known exactly what to do to make it easier on each other. Aster had limped, but Karlan had lost chunks of fur and dislocated his tail.

It probably said something about Aster - and Karlan - that they'd healed up, then gone right back to fucking each other senseless. They'd both gotten better with practice, and then turned their attentions to real romantic relationships, which probably said something else, as well.

"So, no retroactive death wish?"

Aster hummed, and shook his head. "Nah, mate. She's right then." He reached over and stroked Jack's thigh with one hand, and shifted his weight further back on his elbows. "And I'm a mite bit bigger than you."

"You could definitely say that," Jack said, and smirked. "So, feel like breakfast?"

Aster hummed, and scratched idly at his stomach. "Well," he began, and then paused.

He was still petting Jack's thigh. With his right hand. Which was scratching his stomach... and he was propped up on _both_ elbows.

What...?

He looked down at himself, and counted limbs. Two legs. Three right hands. Three left hands. Which made six hands - and six arms - all together.

"What," he said, and promptly lost all control over his limbs.

It was more dramatic in his mind than in reality. The hand scratching his stomach flailed a bit, before thumping down to the cushions and refusing to move no matter how hard he focused. The arms propping him up didn't move, but he didn't want them to. His third - second, maybe, from where it sprouted? - hand, still on Jack's thigh, did everything he wanted his second - or third, or first, he didn't know right now - hand to do, and flailed about in the air until he gave up.

For the moment. Gave up for the moment.

Aster stopped trying to move his limbs, and flopped down on the cushions. Carefully, he lifted all six hands in the air, and stared at them. They oscillated in _inches_ , and he wasn't sure which sensation belonged to which limb.

"What," he said again, and let his hands flop to the cushions again. He turned to look at Jack.

Who was stifling giggles behind his hands, the little shite.

"Jack!"

"What? That was pretty funny. Or cute." Jack paused, and tilted his head to the side. "Funny-cute... cute-funny... Either way." He grinned, and the grin slid into a predatory leer in half a second. Maybe less time. "Hey, you're pretty helpless like this, aren't you?"

" _What_?" he demanded, using the word for the third time.

It was a good word. Very versatile. Covered a wide range of emotions.

Jack pounced.

Aster squawked, and his rebellious arms flailed a bit, but then he had to stop struggling because Jack was doing things to his neck that had to be illegal. Highly illegal.

But oh, so _good_.

Jack growled, and shifted, and then he bit down on Aster's _ear_ and - and Aster completely embarrassed himself with a bellow and fresh semen to muss his fur up again.

Jack pulled away, and stared down at him. "Really?"

"Ears are sensitive."

"Huh." Jack looked down at Aster's stomach, and Aster's still-mostly-limp erection, and grinned. "Yeah, guess so. Hey, you _are_ bigger." He reached for Aster's sheath, and pouted when the Leporid managed to smack his hand away.

"I have to clean up."

Jack pouted. "But I wanna play with you."

Aster raised his eyebrows. "With me, or _with_ me?" he asked. "Never mind. I need to clean up. And then we can have breakfast."

Jack snickered, and moved away. Aster struggled to sit up, without losing control over his arms again. He was... modestly successful. It was just - how was he supposed to know which arm was which without staring at them? How had any of his long distant, eight-limbed ancestors survived to have any children?

Also, how had they stood? He kept overbalancing to one side or the other, until Jack moved forward and propped him up.

"You're not cooking," Jack said. Aster scowled, and nodded.

* * *

"Toasting bread and cheese isn't cooking."

Jack slid the plate across the table, and snorted. "Is, too. Or are you saying my mom couldn't cook?"

Ah yes, the mother with many children. "Fine, it's cooking. Just not complicated cooking."

Jack picked up his own piece of cheese and toast, and nibbled at a corner. "So, my multi-handed fluffy one."

"When'd the arms show up?" He managed, with two false starts, to lift up a piece of toast, then get the toast to his mouth. He had to grip the table with the rest of his hands, because it was harder to separate out which arm was which while trying to use just one.

"Dunno," Jack said, and watched with amusement as Aster ate. "Just woke up, you were wrapped around me with multi-limbs of cuddle."

He nibbled delicately at his toast, tail swaying back and forth, before he continued. "Actually, it was a lot like the first - well, second? Y'know, with the fearling and terrorizing Pitch blackout you had. Kinda like that, only with less grooming of tongue."

Aster winced. "I'm sorry about that."

Jack pointed his toast at Aster's nose. "You are seriously underestimating how much I love your cuddles. Shut up."

Right. "Frostbite..." And there it was again. Not even a twitch. A suppressed twitch. Aster leaned forward, and promptly knocked his plate off the table with a random limb. "Oh for -"

"You're so lucky you're adorable and I love you," Jack said. He ducked down and got the plate, and put it back on the table. "You're also lucky you're holding all the toast."

"But I only..." Oh. Aster looked down. All three left hands were still clinging to the table. All three right hands were holding a piece of toast.

"How did that even happen?" he asked plaintively.

"You're adorable," Jack said. He patted Aster's wrist... one of his wrists... and sat down.

"You keep saying that." He tried to set two of the slices of toast back down on the plate. He stopped trying when he nearly dropped all three on the floor. Jack laughed, the sound warm and bright, and Aster couldn't help but smile in reply.

Strewth, but he had it bad. Anyone else laughed like that, and he'd have lost it on them. Jack laughed, and he had the hardest time not laughing along with.

Jack leaned forward, elbows propped on the table, and chin propped up in his hands. "Well, I keep thinking it. You are the most badass, adorable, fluffy-butt in the entire everything. I'd write odes, but I can't get the iambic pentameter down."

Aster huffed, and took a bite of toast. And nearly took a corner of toast to the eye, but he was getting better at only bringing one hand all the way to his mouth. Probably getting better. "Frostbite," he said, and Jack hid a twitch again. "Alright, I've got to ask."

"Ask what?"

Aster frowned and concentrated on putting the toast on the plate. He smiled when he managed it, and then banged his - that was definitely his third - wrist off the edge of the table. "Bloody -"

"Are you bleeding? Do we have to cut it off?"

"Get me a fucking knife, Jack, I'm getting rid of these racking things once and for all!"

Jack leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, no. Hey, maybe if we gave your extra arms names, you'd be able to control them better. I vote for Larry, Harry, Flo, and Moe."

Aster narrowed his eyes. "You just referenced something I'd kick your arse for, wouldn't I?"

"You'd do something to my behind, but I doubt kicking would be involved." Jack shifted, winced, and then smiled charmingly.

"Not until you stopped wincing." Aster checked his wrist, and shrugged. "Do you not like the nickname Frostbite?"

"I - what?" Jack blinked, shook his head until his ears actually flapped, and then looked up at the ceiling. "Where'd that come from?"

"You wince when I call you Frostbite." Aster picked up some toast - with just the one hand this time - and started eating. He paused to lick cheese off his whiskers, and stared meaningfully at Jack. "If you don't like it, I'll figure something else."

Jack looked down at the table, and started shredding his toast. "Well... I don't not like it? Just, it's kind of weird. I mean, what's frostbite? Frozen dead flesh, kinda life threatening if it gets bad enough. As a term of endearment?" He shrugged, and looked up. "I mean, it's okay, just... I don't hear the word 'frostbite' and have warm, gooshy feelings associated with it."

"Ah." That made sense, and Aster wondered how _he_ hadn't made the connection. "I'll figure something else out."

"I just ruined the nickname for you, too, didn't I?"

"Five minutes thinking about it would've done that. You're in the clear, mate."

Jack grinned, and leaned forward again. "Do you have any nicknames I shouldn't use for you, Bigfoot?"

"That one," Aster deadpanned. "Right there."

"Aw, but Bun-Bun! You do have a big..." Jack slowly looked down Aster's body, until the table blocked his view. "Foot."

"Every time you call me Bigfoot, or reference my big... foot," he said, with exactly the same emphasis and meaning as Jack, "I'm going to drag you out to talk to the guy."

Jack frowned. "Mood killer?"

"Extremely." Aster finished the slice of toast, and - feeling greatly daring now - picked up his glass of water. It worked, and he smiled when he put it back down on the table.

"Gotcha." Jack fell silent, and watched as Aster slowly ate and drank. "Huh. Thought. Pitch freaked out last time he saw you all six armed and scary. What do you think he'll do this time?"

Aster frowned, and then chuckled. "And this time, I'll remember what happens!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: YOU MAY NOTICE A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHAPTER. That's because I accidentally posted last week's. And if it was worth it, I'd go through the entire word document to figure out the hows and whys and what the freaking hells... but I can't be bothered, so thank you FrostOverlord for pointing it out.
> 
> I sorry, it's cold, it saps my brain. -weeps-
> 
> Edit the second - Replaced the chapter YET AGAIN because I had two chapters with the same chapter number in the document.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four - Talk to me

"This one's Larry," Jack said, and traced a line down Aster's - quick thought, second - bicep.

Aster promptly lost control of all six arms, and dropped the hand weights. Five pounds multiplied by six became thirty, all of which did the floor no harm but sounded much louder than they should have. "Jack!"

"Wow. Sheesh, is Larry the control of the group?" Jack laughed, and jumped up onto the couch. He balanced, as much at his ease as when he was using his staff as a perch, and smiled. "Where'd you even get the weights, anyways?"

"Always had them, and my arms do _not_ have names!" He picked up the weights, fumbling only a little. When he _thought_ about it, he could barely keep hold of the weights. When he didn't think, his arms did what he wanted them to do. Not always the arm he wanted to do the action, but by El Ahraira's ears, it got done. And it was getting easier separating out which sensation went with which arm. At some point, he really needed to try doing several things at once. It'd be a time saver... or a huge mess.

"You had six five-pound weights? Most people only need or want two. Well," Jack said, stretching out along the couch back. "Most people usually don't have any."

"Kept losing them," Aster said, and began lifting and stretching his arms again. He kept meaning to do it in a pattern of first set, second set, third set, but every so often he'd stretch out his third set of arms instead of his first, or lift his second set instead of his third. At least he could lift and stretch out one set out of three, instead of all at once.

"I would assume you found them, since you're waving them about." Jack's tail swayed back and forth, no doubt shedding fine, white hairs all over the dark fabric of the couch. Aster did the same thing whenever he sat on the thing, but that was different. For one thing, his fur was mostly gray.

And for another, he didn't tend to stare at something he'd shed all over, and then start giggling like a loon.

"Couple decades ago, yeah." Aster did another few stretches, and then began the simplest of mock punches and swipes. It was... surprisingly effective. He paused and stared down at all six of his hands, holding the weights. He really needed to try a kata or two like this, he had a few ideas...

"I know that look." Jack sighed, though he didn't look dismayed or annoyed when Aster looked over at him. "Trying to figure out how to paint three eggs at once, huh?"

"What?" The idea of - no. Just no. Aster shuddered, and moved over to the small cabinet where he kept the weights. "Katas, actually."

"I would pay good money to watch that, if I had money." Jack sat up. "Hey, do we need to talk to the others or something?"

Aster stood up straight, and flexed his wrists. "Good question. I don't think so. For all North's grand words about bearding the stunted dragon in his den, he prefers planning things out a little more."

"Just sounds more dramatic the first way?" Jack stretched, and Aster made sure to be watching, very obviously, when the Felis inevitably peeked at him. "See something you like?"

Aster smirked, and moved over to Jack. He meant to wrap only two hands around Jack's waist, but ended up with four; and two more looped around Jack's shoulders. Ah, well, it was fairly obvious his mate didn't mind, if the level of purring meant anything. Or the way Jack kept nuzzling at his neck. Two of Aster's hands wandered lower than Jack's hips, and cupped the enticing behind he found there. Jack purred louder.

Jack arched his back, somehow managing to press both into Aster's hands, and forward against the Leporid's chest. "Hey, since we don't have to go anywhere..."

"One track mind, ya bloody show pony." Aster pressed the side of his muzzle to Jack's, and then pulled away. Jack hissed, but it was languid and only half-felt, by the sound of things. "I just want to check and make sure no one's expecting us, and going to show up at the worst time."

Jack pursed his lips, and flopped down on the couch. "It would be rude to scratch friends in the face, wouldn't it?"

"The mental scarring from walking in on what I'd like to do with you would probably be worse."

"Oh?" Jack lifted his head. "That sounds interesting. Tell me more."

"In a bit," he promised, and chuckled. It was simplicity itself to find one of his googies, even though it was his off-season - though things would start ramping up in preparation soon, he reckoned - and send it off to North's through a tunnel. "There, we've got at least half an hour before I get an answer back. Probably longer."

Jack pressed up against his back, and wrapped his arms around Aster's waist. "Yeah?" he asked, and licked, long and slow, up Aster's spine. The Leporid shivered, knees threatening to go weak, at the feeling.

"Keep, ah, keep that up, Frost - Jack. See what it gets you." And of course Jack took that as permission and encouragement, and did it again.

Aster whirled, and fell on Jack with full intent. He bore the lighter Pooka to the ground, and kept him pinned under his body, wrapped up in his arms, while he licked and nibbled at Jack's neck. The Felis groaned, and tried to writhe under him, but Aster held him still with ease.

" _Bunny_..."

"Yeah?" he licked, dragging his tongue up the side of Jack's neck, and grinned at the full body shudder. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what you were doing to me."

Jack's pupils dilated, and he groaned again. "Uh, I'm still sore..."

"More than one way to fool around together." Aster rolled, pulling Jack on top of him. "Now then. Lemme show you what I mean."

It was easy, delightfully so, to get Jack worked up and aroused in a few minutes. Aster chuckled, and cupped Jack's sheathe with one hand, while the remaining five wandered over Jack's back, sides, and chest. The Felis had gone limp from the stimulation, purring and stretching against Aster. It was incredibly, almost surprisingly arousing; he hadn't done anything but pet and fondle Jack, and he was hard already. Aster freed one hand to cup his own sheathe, and groaned.

"Oh." Jack blinked, and looked down. "Uh, do you want help, ah... Oooh..."

Aster snickered, and pressed a little harder against both of their sheathes. "I'm fine. You, however, will need a little help, I think."

"I know what to do with my hands." Jack flexed his fingers against Aster's chest. It was probably accident that it made the tips of his claws prick against Aster's skin.

"I imagine you do." Aster reached up and rubbed at the base of Jack's ear. The Felis immediately slumped boneless in reaction. "But what about your mouth?"

"My...?" Jack's ears flicked back, and his tail twitched. "My mouth?"

So, that was a no, Jack didn't know. Good. Aster would've had to kill someone, if his mate _had_ known. And it was quite endearing, the way Jack got embarrassed over a simple bit of fellatio. Still, best to make sure embarrassment was all that it was. He stopped his fondling, and nuzzled the top of Jack's head. "Mate?"

"You, uh, you want me to put my mouth...?" Jack looked down, and his ears went back again. "I mean, I have fangs!" he added, and if his laugh were any more nervous...

Aster hummed. "Eventually, it'd be nice. I was thinking more my mouth on _you_."

"Oh." If anything, that seemed to make Jack even more embarrassed. "Like, um, oh."

"Are you okay with that?" Aster shifted a little, the better to stroke three of his hands down Jack's back, more to sooth than arouse.

"I don't... know? It's not something that's come up." Jack cleared his throat, and looked off to the side. "And the few times I'd see, I mean, I'd pretty much run the other way..."

"Yeah?" Well, goodbye immediate gratification. Aster stopped cupping both their erections, and settled for cuddling. Hello, blue balls. "Kind of a surprise to hear that, considering hormones...?"

Jack ducked his head. "Um, massive invasion of privacy? And, I don't, I mean... Usually it was, um, pornos. Regular people go into the woods for sex maybe once in a blue moon? Less? So there'd be two people, or, um, you know. More. And then there'd be the director and the lights and the cameras and it was scary, not sexy."

"Pooka didn't have porn, at least not the way humans do," Aster mused. "Never had an interest in going to watch humans doing their thing... I'll take your word for it. You seemed plenty okay with sex last night, though."

And now his mate was trying to crawl _under_ him. "That was different," Jack mumbled.

Aster sighed, and waited. After a minute, Jack stopped trying to hide, and peeked up at him. "It was," the Felis insisted. "That was - I mean, we were in _bed_ , and - and it wasn't like you were putting my... in your _mouth_."

Hm. "So is it that we're outside?" he asked, and waved one hand at the fields, the plants, and all the open air. "Or is it the level of trust?"

"Level of... huh?" Jack frowned, looked down at his groin, then Aster's, and frowned more. "Sorry, Bunny."

"It's alright, Frostbite... I need to get you a better pet-name." Aster sighed. "I'd rather we talk these things out than us do something that'll make you uncomfortable."

"I trust you." Jack sighed, and squirmed about until he was lying properly on Aster, knees bracketing the Leporid's hips, chin resting on his folded hands. "It's weird, you never see people talking about this sort of thing in the media."

"Yeah, well, real life people aren't telepathic and empathic, they don't know if a hesitation is 'cause their partner's uncomfortable, or because they're trying to rein in their enthusiasm." Aster paused, and then added, "Well, it's a little different for spirits, some are telepathic from the get-go, or empathic, but not even that'll help when you're having the time of your life."

Jack hummed agreement, and Aster stroked along the Felis' back. "The sex last night was really good," Jack said. "I enjoyed it."

"I could tell."

"I know you enjoyed it, 'cause you're all six-armed still."

That was more Aster not knowing how to control his own shapeshifting, having never managed to pull out the extra four arms without also having a berserk episode, but details. "But now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jack said, his entire being screaming 'thoughtful'. "I was okay when it was just your hands, and wincing aside, I was okay thinking it might go full on sex, but then you asked about mouths and... that seems weird, to me? Why would you want to put your mouth _there_?"

"Because it's enjoyable?" Aster tilted his head, the better to stare up at the ceiling and think. Jack nuzzled under his chin. "Stop that, I need to answer you before I go back to trying to rile you up."

Jack snickered, and subsided. He waited patiently - or patiently for him - with no sign other than his tail swaying back and forth to show he was still paying attention.

"Right. It's enjoyable. Being on the giving and receiving end." Jack looked doubtful at that, and Aster grinned. "Don't knock it until you try it. Personally, I quite enjoy giving as much as receiving. On the receiving end, there's always the fact that it feels like... I don't know how to describe it, but it's great. And on the giving end, there's the fact that I'm making the other person - in this case, you - feel like that. Very empowering. Lots of sexy noises. Entirely possible to come without touching myself just from sucking someone - again, in this case, you - off."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You don't have to keep qualifying, Bunny. I know you've had past lovers."

"Just wanting to make sure." Aster nuzzled between Jack's ears. "Anyways. That's my thoughts on the matter."

The Felis made several very odd expressions, and then sighed. "I guess? It still seems weird to me, but I'm willing to try."

"All I ask." Aster twitched an ear, and pushed himself up until he was sitting, four arms braced against the ground and two wrapped around Jack, keeping his mate in his lap. "Heard something."

"Sexy times, round two, just got delayed, didn't it?" Jack pulled away, and held his hands out in silent offer.

Not that Aster needed the help, but he took it anyways. Jack pulled him up, and then cuddled close.

"So... your egg came back?"

"Reckon." He headed towards the tunnels, a quiet Felis following behind him. The egg had come back, and with an elf too. "Drat."

The elf, North's tie-dyed monstrosity, held up a piece of folded paper. And then the ruddy thing eyed the handful of googies wandering about, and the paint river, in a meaningful way.

"Fine," Aster said, and took the note before it could end up in the paint. "Don't break any."

The elf made a sound that, with only a little imagination, sounded like 'yippie!' and took off after the eggs like a - Aster winced at the mental comparison - greyhound after a rabbit. The googies, showing admirable levels of self preservation and common sense, scattered.

"North sent a note?" Jack pressed up against Aster's back, and dug his chin into the bigger Pooka's shoulder. "Lemme see. What's it say?"

Aster huffed, and unfolded the paper. Jack made a disgusted sound when he saw North had written in semi-legible Cyrillic, and pulled away.

"He says he thinks we should have another group meeting in two days from now, and he'll let us know if the Workshop ends up off limits for any reason." Aster folded the note back up, and tucked it in a belt pouch. "So I've got time to get control over my arms, among other things."

Jack sniffed, and studied a nearby fern. "You're doing much better with the multiple limbs thing than this morning. So, uh, round two?"

Aster hummed, and hugged Jack from behind. "We could have a go at it, or..."

"Or?" Jack turned in Aster's arms, the better to look up at him. "Or what?"

"Or we can do something else for a tick, get our minds off it. Nothing quite like performance anxiety for ruining a mood." Aster raised an eyebrow. "Y'know, I don't even know where you've been living these past three centuries, when you haven't been dropping by to drive me crazy."

Jack looked smug at that. "No, I'm still not telling you how I get into the Warren all the time."

"Worth a shot. Well?"

Jack frowned, and then huffed. "I guess... there's one place, kinda like my den. Usually I'd nap in trees or something..." Aster tightened his hug. "Wow. You have a lot of muscles, and they're all squeezing me against your chest."

"Should I stop?" he asked, without letting up.

"Nah, it's nice. Anyways." Jack scratched idly at Aster's sides. "There is one place I'd go, if I wanted to sleep somewhere absolutely safe or something. We can go there."

Setting aside the idea that Jack had been leery of sleeping because it wasn't safe... "I'd like that," Aster said. "Where is it?"

Jack pulled away. "Well, we first have to leave the Warren, and then... There's this cave, near my lake. The entrance is through there."

Entrance? Aster waved towards the North American tunnel. "Lay on, MacDuff."

Jack frowned. "Don't you dare quote Shakespeare to me. I watched his plays, the originals? I will _bite_ you if you do that again."

Aster smirked, and wrapped two arms around Jack's waist. "Promises, promises."

Jack choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conversation about boundaries! Yay! And next chapter, Jack in the woods as a cat, Bunny admiring said Jack-cat in the woods, and Jack's Den. Possibly smut.
> 
> On a more word-document level, I still haven't fixed the chapter numbers in-fic, so I'm kind of twitching very slightly. Oh well.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five - Take me Home

Jack hopped up onto a rock, one that was chest high on Aster and somewhat jagged, and sniffed the air. "Huh," he said. "I didn't realize it, but things feel... different. Out here, I mean."

A breeze ruffled their fur, and Jack shivered. His fingers flexed on his staff, claws extending and retracting, and Aster watched in fascination as the Felis' pupils constricted to narrow slits. Jack's tail swayed back and forth, like a lazy metronome, and in that moment he looked like the personification of all things wild and predatory.

"D'you want to do some exploring first?" he suggested.

Jack opened his mouth and breathed in, and then hopped down off the rock. "Why not?" he asked, and started walking around.

Aster followed, dropping onto all fours - all eights? - as Jack meandered from one tree to the next. He doubted Jack felt anywhere near as territorial as the Canim had, but from what he remembered the Felis had been territorial, all the same. And with Earth animals, cats, well... If he remembered right, a big cat like a panther or a leopard spent more time patrolling their territory than actively hunting.

Jack certainly wasn't hunting. There was a moment, when he startled a rabbit into bolting from cover, but he didn't chase after it.

"Not hungry?" Aster asked, considering a run himself. He wasn't hungry either, but it'd be nice to stretch his legs. Although, considering his arms... He was managing alright just walking, but he'd probably trip and fall flat on his face if he went any faster.

Jack turned and stared at him. "Bunny?" His ears went back. "I don't - I wouldn't -"

Aster wrinkled his nose. "Jack? I'm going to need a bit more, 'cause I don't get what you're getting at."

The Felis lashed his tail. "I'm not going to eat a rabbit, Bunny!"

"Why not?" Sure, Aster didn't eat rabbits, but that was different. They reminded him just a little too much of Ceat, a species that had served the Pooka the same way cats served humans. Pets, hunters of small pests, mythological lightning rods... They'd even looked like a cross between a rabbit and a cat, though mentally they'd been more like a dog.

Jack gestured wordlessly, somehow managing to convey both that he was implying Aster was a reason, as well as a great deal of frustration. He must've learned it from Sandy.

Aster rolled his eyes, and moved closer to Jack. "Not a rabbit, remember?"

"I know, I know, you're a bunny. I remember." Jack glared at him, and his shoulders frosted over. The frost melted away quickly enough, but it'd been fascinating to see. "Doesn't change what you look like."

"True," he allowed. Though at the moment he didn't look nearly as much like a rabbit as he probably resembled a spider. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to be bothered if you want to chase it."

Jack actually threw his hands up into the air, and then snatched his staff up and stomped off. He actually had to put effort into making his stomps audible. Felis were supposed to be quiet, and it was probably instinct to move without letting people hear him.

Aster studied a nearby patch of Giant-Hyssops. Now how had that come here? He was pretty sure it wasn't native to the area, though he'd be the first to admit he could get a bit fuzzy over that. It wasn't flowering, but the leaf shape was distinctive enough for him. Someone else probably wouldn't realize what it was, even with the flowers. Or the nettles.

Jack came back after a few minutes, and hopped up onto his staff. "I know you're not vegetarian. Or vegan," he said.

"Good on ya, that's more than most people have figured out." To take a sample, or not. Decisions, decisions.

"But doesn't it bother you?" Jack's tone pulled Aster's attention away from the plant, and he gave the question all the respect and thought it deserved.

"No." Two seconds of thought and respect was good enough. Jack frowned, so maybe it wasn't. "Looking like a prey animal isn't going to make me one."

"But aren't there people who try?"

Aster straightened up. "So what?" he asked. "They try, I kick 'em into next week. They think I'm weak, it's a blind spot just waiting to be taken advantage of. It's annoying, but that's all."

Jack looked away. "It bothers _me_ ," he finally said. "So I'm not going to chase them."

Aster reached over, and tugged Jack off the staff and into his chest. "That's your decision." He licked one ear, and let Jack go when the Felis wiggled. "But I won't mind if you decide otherwise."

Jack sniffed, and began wandering about again.

It took three hours before Jack was satisfied, and disinterested in further exploring. "I can always come back," he said, and pointed back towards the water. "You wanted to see my den."

"Yeah." Aster followed along after Jack, feeling a bit steadier. Maybe he wouldn't land on his face when he tried running.

He'd wait until they returned to the Warren, though, he decided, and sidestepped a pinecone. Fewer things about to hurt him.

Jack led the way to the short cliff next to the lake. The 'cave' he pointed out was more like a crack, just barely big enough for Aster to fit in. Jack squeezed in to the back, and began poking and muttering to himself as he went. Aster waited, keeping an eye out at the rest of the world. From this angle, the lake and surrounding forest didn't seem nearly as friendly as he knew they were. This was Jack's territory... but Jack's territory looked almost forbidding, the color leached out of it, from inside the cave.

"Hah," Jack muttered, and Aster felt a familiar magic behind him. His magic.

He turned, just as the tunnel opened. Jack started crawling into it, and then paused. "Uh, I have to close it behind us -"

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I've got it."

"Yeah?" Jack started crawling again. "Yeah, guess you did open the tunnel up the first time, didn't you?"

Aster nodded, and followed in after Jack. The tunnel was claustrophobic, with the sides scraping against his shoulders, the top pressing down against his back, and the tunnel closing tight against his heels. Even so, he was doing better than Jack. The Felis' breathing had sped up and he shook to the point Aster could feel the vibration with his whiskers. He kept going forward, though.

"I used to have panic attacks in the tunnel," Jack said, his voice quavering. "I don't any more - but this isn't comfortable."

"I'll adjust things," Aster promised, and moved forward until he could press his lips to the base of Jack's tail. The Felis jumped, and growled loudly. "Sorry."

"No sex in the tunnel."

Aster smirked, and let Jack get a foot ahead of him, before he started to move again.

It took longer to get through this tunnel than his normal ones. Probably because it'd been made... off. Aster wasn't sure - he had suspicions, but he wasn't sure - but his berserk side had probably done it. Didn't make too much sense, since he'd always figured his berserk side couldn't do that, but the evidence was all around him.

"Here," Jack said, and hummed a little as he left the tunnel and stretched up onto his hind legs. Aster waited for Jack to move, and then squeezed out into...

Well. "I made this," he said, and stared at the trees grown tall, the moss and grass everywhere, and the way Jack crouched on one hump of roots like he belonged.

"You did?"

Aster nodded, and swallowed hard. "Here. I'll... just follow me."

Jack did, making interested noises when Aster went down what looked like a dead end. "I haven't figured out what to do with this arm yet," he said, and then made an unholy screeching noise when Aster unlocked the door.

"Ow."

" _What did you do_?"

Aster rubbed at the base of one ear, and huffed. "There was no need for drama."

"The wall glowed! The wall glowed and then it moved and now there's a door! What did you do?" Jack couldn't be nearly as panicked as he sounded. Subtle things, like the wide grin and the way he was bouncing on his toes, gave it away.

Aster shoved lightly at Jack's shoulder, and headed back to the main area. The boreal forest was both caught forever in autumn - he blamed Jack - and tiny, especially compared with the Warren. There were a grand total of five trees, and at least one of them was a large bush. "I unlocked the door."

"Did you really make my den?" Jack moved past him and jumped up into the maple. He stretched out on one of the low, thick branches, looking very much at his ease. "While you were berserk or what?"

"Before," he murmured, and settled down on the ground. "I was making... well, places like the Warren, for... survivors. Only then I realized their wouldn't be any."

Jack stared at him, and it was like his gaze sucked the words right out of Aster. He was almost babbling, really. "I kept hoping my family had survived, because Canim, they're tough, but then there was nothing. At first I thought it was just that I'd gone a long ways away, but if there'd been any survivors, they would've followed the Last Light. And they didn't, and - and it was century after century of nothing, so I stopped making new places. Started combining what I'd made with the rest of the Warren."

"I'd wondered what the desert was doing there."

Aster nodded. "And then I had to stop. Because it'd started to be poisonous. The hope, I mean. Because I kept holding back from everything on Earth, because _they'd arrive any day now_. Only they never did. So I had to stop. I..." He looked around, and blinked back tears. "I had to stop. I closed up everything left, and made myself ignore it. I was the last I was always going to be the last, and when I finally accepted it and moved on, I felt better."

"Did you?" Jack asked, and dropped off his perch. "Bunny..."

"I had to," he said again. "Because if I didn't feel better, what was the point?"

"Bunny." Jack walked over, and then climbed into his lap. "C'mere, Cottontail."

Aster wrapped his arms around Jack, and held tight.

"My dad survived," Jack pointed out. He raked his claws through the ruff on Aster's neck and shoulders. "He had me and my many, many siblings. Who had many children of their own. It's not the same, I know, but there's Pooka on earth. Human-Pooka. Mostly human at this point, right?"

"Yeah, probably," Aster muttered, and pulled back. "I know what you're saying."

"I'm also saying this. My dad didn't pop up out of nowhere. He didn't arrive from a vacuum, except space is kind of empty... not the point." Jack stared into his eyes. "My dad came from somewhere. There's got to be a way to find out where that is."

"Not now," Aster murmured.

Jack sniffed, and twitched his tail. "Well, no, not now. But soon."

Aster leaned back, until he was reclining in the grass. Jack curled up on his chest, warm and soft and smelling like Pooka.

They were out there. They were.

It felt better than when he admitted they weren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES THIS IS THE PROPER CHAPTER I CHECKED MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA... Sorry. -cough-
> 
> Bunny, why are you always Angst-machine? One day I will write a happy skippy hopeful optimist Bunny who tries to hide behind a hard-bitten warrior exterior, but everyone knows he's a giant goosh. EVERYONE.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six - Wolf Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is now technically an official crossover. Varg and Nasaug (and technically the Trueblood) come from Jim Butcher's Codex Alera. I have a feeling I won't do them justice, but they were too awesome to leave out.

"The markers are old."

"Almost four centuries now," Nasaug agreed. "Keoni is Felis."

Varg snorted and rolled his eyes. As every pup learnt while still suckling at their mother's tit, only the Canim and the Felis came close to the long-dead Leporid clan in length of their lives. Canim, if all went well - as it so rarely did - could see fifteen hundred long years. Felis could see a thousand, though there were some that had lived longer.

"So he will not be able to claim senility for his neglect."

His whelp fiddled with the display screen, his nostrils fluttering in amusement. "Perhaps it was stupidity," he suggested. He tilted one ear. "Or suicidal desires. There is nothing to explain why his markers came this way, after all."

"Scout ships are more sensitive than ours," Varg reminded his whelp. An unneeded reminder, but for that lone comment. "There are any number of reasons why he came this way."

He moved away from Nasaug's station, and stared up at the front display. Around him, the crew of the Trueblood worked at their duties, quiet but for the odd snarled comment here and there. His people were well trained, both at the work and at reading the Warmaster's moods. Currently, none wished to draw his attention, in case it drew a reprimand with it.

He had every reason to be irritable. Keoni, his greatest of enemies, had vanished four centuries ago without a trace. The idea that someone - someone _else_ \- had spilt the Felis' lifeblood rankled. Not only had Varg been stolen of the pleasure, should it have happened, but their people's numbers were low. At last count, the Canim had hovered at thirty thousand. The Felis, with their abilities to breed true children of their clan, were safer, though they numbered only ten thousand. Other clans had not fared so well; the Leporid were gone, their technological might doing nothing against the ancient threat of the Fearlings. The Aquilae remained; of all the clans, they were the most numerous, beating the Canim by approximately five thousand. The Equus sat between the Felis and the Canim in numbers.

Of all the clans, it was the Out-Clan, those children with only half-right to the Pookan blood, that formed the majority of the species. Varg could well remember the days when it had been different, when the Pookan people had filled dozens of planets, though it had been a long, long time ago by planet-side time keeping.

The numbers alone were enough to make him irritable, though he was pleased as well. It was only under his guidance that the clans had regained some lost ground. Under his elder brother's, their numbers had dropped and continued to drop. That alone would have justified Varg's challenge; it was the other crimes Tharsh had been responsible for that made it only right and proper to tear the bastard's throat out.

Yet the numbers were an old grievance, an itching scar to gnaw at until the annoyance went away, and then set aside. No, it was Keoni now that had Varg growling like a bitch in the last month of pregnancy. A bitch without a mate to tear into, he amended mentally, and felt at an old scar he wore with inevitable pride. His Aldsea had about torn the entire bicep muscle off when she'd bitten him there, and he hadn't been able to use the arm until Nasaug's third month of life.

Keoni, who had laughingly taken Canim traditions, referring to Varg as his _Gadara_ , as ready for bloodletting as any true warrior. Keoni, who had inflicted Aldsea upon Varg, and had vowed to teach Nasaug of treachery when the pup was old enough. Keoni, who had vanished twenty years ago by ship-board reckoning, almost four centuries by planet time-keeping.

Not for the first time, Varg spared a second to curse the way Super-Light travel wreaked havoc on the passage of time.

"Hrrrn," Nasaug growled. "Sire, come look at this."

The order was presumptuous, but Varg forgot entirely of disciplining his pup when he saw what was on the screen. "Keoni never did use one word when three would do," he muttered, translating the code mentally.

"The... what even is the Last Light?" one of the crewmen asked another.

Varg glanced at his whelp, who lifted his chin briefly in a nod. "I'll take care of it," Nasaug agreed. He tapped several keys, and nodded again. "I have copied everything current from the marker to your room," he said.

"Good." Varg swept the deck with his gaze once, Canim looking up at him and tilting their heads to the side in submission. "Good," he said again, and turned for the doors.

He was left alone as he made his way back to his quarters. Once there he turned on his personal screen, and brought up the information.

Keoni's marker. Information about his ship, automatically downloaded and just as automatically passed on to the Trueblood's scanners. And that message...

_Hello Varg, you old faker you. Following the trail of the Last Light - we might just have a new planet to call home after all. What was it like? The very idea of weather makes my fur crawl, but who knows? I might just come to like it. Give my regards to my parents, in the Felis style and not the Canim if it's not too much trouble. They get very unnerved at an over-large brute growling about how he will tear my throat out when the time comes and not before, or whatever it was you said to them last._

Varg touched the edge of the screen, and wished he did not have news that would shatter Keoni's fragile, Felis heart.

* * *

Aster woke slowly, aware in a vague, disinterested way that something was tickling the base of his throat. He swatted lightly at it, which made the annoying sensation go away, and shifted to better go back to sleep. Seconds later, the tickle came back, stronger. Then his fur was pulled up the wrong way, and he grumbled.

"Not now," he said, and then mumbled something, even he didn't know what.

Something - no, someone - snuffled at his shoulder, and then licked his fur there. Aster grunted, and started to roll away, but stopped when he ended up on his back.

Lovely. Grooming. Who...?

"I can tell you're awake," Jack whispered, and this time licked at Aster's chest, just to the side of his ruff. "And can I just say, it's weird how good licking you feels."

"Grooming," Aster mumbled, and cracked open one eye. Jack helpfully moved into view, his eyes wide and his tongue half-stuck out of his mouth.

"Yeah?" Jack scraped his tongue against his front teeth, and then shrugged. "I'm going to have to try licking my own back at some point, like a real cat, because this doesn't feel weird at all."

Of course that was what Jack was taking from the experience. He really shouldn't have been surprised.

Aster closed his eye, and shifted until he could drape one arm up over his face. His eyes, specifically. "Felis didn't groom that way," he mumbled.

He heard Jack mutter "So?", and then felt the ticklish sensation return, this time in his armpit. Now that he was awake and aware of what Jack was doing, he could deduce the cause. Jack was sniffing at him, and his breath or his whiskers were just brushing Aster's fur enough that he could pick up on it, but only just. Thus, ticklish.

He held still as Jack slowly snuffled - with the odd lick - across Aster's chest, down his ribcage, and paused at Aster's stomach. He did twitch when Jack started feeling about just under the sternum, and when he peeked, the Felis was actually parting Aster's fur until he could see the skin underneath.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Aster asked.

"Looking for your belly button." Jack made a pleased sound when he found it, and then laughed. "You're an outie!"

"I'm going to kick you in the head if you don't stop," Aster muttered.

"No you won't."

No, he wouldn't.

Jack paid a strange amount of attention to Aster's sides, spending a full minute just licking and nuzzling Aster there. The Leporid twitched when Jack started mouthing the tops of his hips, and concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly. Whatever game Jack was playing... well, it probably had something to do with the way Aster's penis was starting to harden and extend out of his sheath.

And even if it didn't, that was the result. Jack would just have to deal with it.

He heard Jack huff, and felt the puff of air over the tip of his penis. "Just like daffodils and spring," Jack said.

"I resent that."

"No, you resemble that." Jack blew on the tip of Aster's penis again, and that was all the encouragement his body apparently needed. It felt like all of a second before his prick was fully hard, and starting to leak.

Jack laughed, and Aster peeked again. The Felis looked far too amused for something so simple, and Aster opened his mouth to say something.

Then Jack bent low, until he was nose to tip with Aster's prick.

Words died. Breathing faded. Coherent thought went away.

Jack sniffed at Aster's prick, and then began to move lower, close enough that Aster could feel the faint stirring in the air as Jack breathed, but not close enough to touch. He could feel Jack's whiskers brush the inside of his thighs, where leg met groin, but that was all. He sucked in a desperate breath, and then another when that didn't quite do the trick. And then he was gasping, driven breathless by nothing more than the sight of Jack _almost_ touching him, and the feeling of whiskers at his groin.

Jack shifted, and looked up along Aster's body, to meet his gaze. Jack had looked curious when he'd been staring at Aster's erection, studying it, but now he looked...

Oh, El-Ahrairah's balls... Jack looked mischievous.

"You okay, Bunny?" Jack asked. "You look worried."

"Fine," he managed. "I'm fine."

"Oh, good." Jack grinned, and then turned his attention back down to Aster's prick. Mischief turned into contemplation, and then the Felis leaned in and licked Aster from balls to tip.

"Fuck!" Aster tried to arch up into the contact, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. He swore under his breath in several languages, and propped himself up on his elbows.

Jack was chuckling, and shifting ever so slightly into a presumably more comfortable position. He was crouched down, on hands and knees, the better to get his face closer to Aster's groin. It wasn't a bad sight, but damn. "You couldn't have warned me?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Jack's tail swayed back and forth twice, before he moved in to repeat the long, dragging lick.

Felis tongues were rougher than Leporid, Aster realized, and let his head fall forwards. "Fuck," he said again, and started to chant the word over and over, in as many languages as he knew. The entire time Jack treated Aster's prick like a favourite flavour of lolly, curling his tongue to stroke every last inch of Aster's prick. The faint rasp against his most sensitive skin was just shy of pain, and all the more pleasurable for it.

Jack paused in his torture, and pressed his nose against Aster's balls. It made the Leporid twitch. It wasn't a bad feeling, but _strewth_ , Jack had a cold nose.

"Having fun?" Jack asked, pulling away far enough to talk.

"Loads." Aster looked Jack over, the way the Felis was shifting his hips and had spread his legs. "You're having fun too."

"More than I expected," Jack admitted.

Aster hummed, and sat up properly. "C'mere," he said, and pulled the Felis into his arms. They nuzzled for a moment, cheek to cheek, and then Aster moved, rolling until Jack was pinned underneath him. Their hips slotted together, erection pressed against erection. It wasn't quite as good a feeling as Jack's tongue dragging against him, but there'd be a time for that again. Later.

Jack twitched, and caught hold of Aster's forearms. "Oh, hey." Jack blinked. "You're back down to two."

"I - what?" Aster sat back on his heels, and looked himself over. "When'd that happen?" Two. He hadn't even noticed.

"While we slept?" Jack suggested, sounding just as confused as Aster felt. "Does this mean we're stopping?"

Aster stopped studying his hands, and leered at Jack. "Nope. Now, Jackie, I'm going to give you full marks for effort, but I think it's time you learnt a little bit by way of technique."

Jack stared at him, and then wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, no, don't talk like that."

"Didn't feel natural to me, either." Aster crouched down, copying Jack's earlier posture, and nuzzled at the join of Jack's leg to his hip. "Fact is... were you planning on the licking thing?"

Jack shrugged awkwardly, his movement hampered somewhat by how he was lying against the ground. "Not really? Just seemed like a good idea."

"Very good idea," Aster said, and let his voice rumble through his chest. Jack shivered, and half-closed his eyes when Aster started licking, the way Jack had, from Jack's balls to the tip of his prick.

Jack gasped when Aster stopped.

"Felt good, didn't it?" Aster smiled, and nuzzled Jack's hip again.

"Yeah," Jack said slowly. As composed as he looked, his voice gave away the lie; the word was ragged, his voice cracked in the middle.

"Here's something that feels even better." Aster bent his head, and took the tip of Jack's prick in his mouth. And proceeded to swallow the rest of Jack down.

The Felis' pleasured yowl echoed off the walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am willing to admit a platonic crush on Varg, who is badass incarnate. I mentioned him in a previous chapter, but don't worry if you don't remember him. I can't remember where he was mentioned, either.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven - Children

Jack made him feel old. After a bit of rooting around, Aster wanted nothing more active than, say, a _nap_. Jack, on the other hand, must've been powered by those battery things everyone kept associating with the Leporid; five minutes after they'd both enjoyed some pretty loud orgasms - Jack had managed to get his mouth back on Aster's prick, once Aster had sucked him off, and the result had been _quite_ enjoyable - Aster was stretching out to drowse and Jack was bouncing off the walls.

Literally. Something to do with back flips.

"Settle down," Aster called, when Jack moved from the walls and up into the tree. "For crying out loud..."

"You don't want to just sleep the day away, do you Bunny?" Jack perched on a tree branch just overhead, looking like he was contemplating something mischievous. "Oh, hey, how come my Den opens up in Burgess, but your Warren doesn't have a connection with the land above?"

Aster rolled over onto his back, resigned that there'd be no napping after all. "Does. Couple airshafts up to Oz. As for how your Den -" As good a name as any, to differentiate the Warren from Jack's space, "- connects to Burgess, and the Warren to Oz... magic."

Jack huffed, and jumped down to the ground beside Aster. At least it wasn't onto Aster. "That shouldn't work."

"Does anyways."

Jack's tail brushed over Aster's face, and then the Felis was up and stalking away. "There's no such thing as magic, anyways," he said.

Aster propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Jack. "Wot you just say?"

"There's no such thing as magic. Not really. There's stuff science can't explain yet, but that's meta-science."

Aster rubbed at his forehead. Oh, boy. Usually when a kid started pulling this shite out of a hat, they lost him - or her, but girls tended to be more sensible, less 'poke it with a stick and explain everything' than boys - to adulthood. For a spirit to be this... this.... "Jack, are you pulling my leg?"

Jack grinned, and stalked over to where Aster was still sprawled out. "You've got good legs, but no." He draped himself over the Leporid, going boneless and purring and somehow tripling his weight.

"Well, you're a spirit." Aster shifted Jack to the side, so he could breathe, and got resettled. "You're seriously trying to claim there's no such thing as magic?"

"One day," Jack said, nuzzling Aster's shoulder. "One day everything will be explained with physics."

Horrifying thought. Aster shook his head, and let his mind fill with more interesting ideas. New designs for the eggs, a quick mental note to fix that tunnel into Jack's Den... The way Jack's fur slid against his, soft and warm and making his skin tingle.

And then Jack pushed away and Aster was jolted out of his relaxing drowse. Rudely. Rudely jolted out of his drowse. "Oy!"

"D'you want to go back out? I kinda do. You don't have to." Jack crouched over on all fours, the very embodiment of mischief and hyperactivity. "You can stay here and be lazy if you want."

"Lazy!" He pushed himself up onto all fours, and stretched until his spine cracked. "Who're you calling lazy?"

Jack chortled, and leapt on him. The tussle that followed was brief, and more aggravating for Aster than anything. Probably Jack's incisors against his shoulder, or the claws. He swiped at Jack, and then managed to swat the maniac away. At least Jack took it better than Aster would have; there was a great deal of laughter, at least, and Jack righted himself quickly enough.

"C'mon," Jack said, and headed for the exit.

"Oh, no." Aster hurried after him. "Let me fix that tunnel first."

Jack paused, and tilted his head. "How?"

Aster paused, and then smirked. "Magic," he said, and ignored Jack's snort and tail twitch. He pressed both hands to where the tunnel opened, and concentrated. The magic in his tunnels always felt like a cluster of wires, singing with tension. This tunnel, though, there wasn't so much 'tension' as 'sag', so the magic wasn't able to open up properly. It only took a bit of tweaking - routine maintenance, really - before everything felt right. Aster opened his eyes, and moved away.

Jack wasn't beside him. Aster looked around, and then something prompted him to look up.

Jack was clinging upside down to the wall like a gecko, grinning in a way to show every last tooth in his head.

Aster shrieked and flailed back.

And then ended up with a Felis all but landing on his head, laughing madly.

"You're a menace." He pushed the idiot off him, and then brushed at his shoulder and back, trying to get the dirt out of his fur. At least it was dry. Mud was horrible.

Jack purred loudly. "Love you too. Why'd that take you three hours?"

Three... Jack's eyes widened when Aster started swearing, though it was old Tuathan. Even Aster wasn't quite sure what he was saying, or how it translated. Or pronunciation. Sounded absolutely filthy, though.

"Why didn't you go into the Warren, if you were bored?" Aster gestured towards the door, and glowered down at Jack.

"I did. Came back. Decided to see how long I could cling to the wall." Jack smiled, and rolled over onto his stomach. "Hey, let's go visit the kids."

Aster rubbed both hands over his face. "Yeah, sure, why not?" He'd taken a lunatic as his mate. Lovely. Why hadn't he realized that before?

* * *

Jack slowed halfway to town, and then stopped. "Uh," he said, and looked around nervously. "I just remembered."

Aster grunted. "What?"

"Jamie said no visit unless we're wearing clothes. 'Cause Sophie."

Aster frowned, and then began to smile. "You should've mentioned we'd visit the rugrat. Gimme a sec." Summoning an egg golem was easy. Directing said egg golem to pick up clothing before traveling through the tunnel, not as easy. Doable, at least, which was why two of them lumbered up into the forest, draped in blue and green clothes.

"What's this?" Jack went for the blue, though Aster had to wonder if that was chance or not. Jack's curiosity knew no bounds, or sane limits.

"Your sweater. You're built different enough now it should come to mid thigh." And his old, green jacket. Still fit, though if he was going to be wearing it more often, he'd best do a bit of repairs. The one cuff was starting to fray, and the shoulder seams were worn.

It'd do for a quick visit, though.

"Where'd you get my sweater?" Jack paused, halfway through pulling it on, and then snorted. "Never mind, stupid question. Where'd the egg get my sweater?"

Aster fussed with the egg-shaped cuff links. "Same place my jacket was. And before you ask, no, I don't know how they got the clothes out of the closet."

Jack looked the golems over, twitched his ears, and shook his head. "No guesses from the peanut gallery," he said, and adjusted his sweater. Like Aster had figured, it now came down to almost mid-thigh on the manic cat. "Why's it so big now?"

"You're a bit more compact, like this," Aster pointed out. At least in along the rib cage. His arms and legs were longer than when he'd been human. It was just enough of a difference to make the sweater cover everything 'improper' - though with fur, that didn't really matter - and had the unintended side effect of making Jack look younger than he really was.

A great deal younger.

Aster suppressed the urge to catch Jack by the scruff and drag him off for some grooming and cuddles, and finished doing up his buttons. There, that was... good enough for small children. Though if he'd ever tried wearing nothing but his jacket, he'd have been thrown out of the corps.

"Is that a uniform?"

"Dress uniform." Aster checked the pockets and frowned at the pieces of old-fashioned smoking pipe he pulled out. Ah right, he'd managed to break that... and the habit, because he'd never gotten around to carving a new one. "Part of it, anyways."

Jack snorted, and took the bowl half of the pipe to study. He sniffed at it, and then licked at the inside. Aster almost bit through his lip to keep from laughing at Jack's resulting expression.

"Gimme that," he said, and took it away before the idiot could think to try eating it. "C'mon, thought we were going to visit the sprogs."

Jack perked up, and started down the path towards the town again. Aster waved the two golems back into the tunnel, and followed at a more sedate pace.

And got used to wearing the jacket again. It wasn't possible to drop to all fours wearing this thing; part of the reason why he'd done away with clothing. Not even the Pooka had been able to figure out how to do that, and with their fur - or feathers, for the Aquilae - clothes hadn't been necessary for anything but the most inclement of weather. Well, and uniforms, once the Pookan Empire had started dealing with other civilizations again. The Tuatha, the Fomor, and countless others, had seen clothing as a sign of civilization, after all.

Easy enough to humour them.

Jack was waiting at the outskirts of town, tail swaying back and forth. "You're slow," he declared, before leaping into the air and flying further in, towards the sprogs' neighbourhood.

Aster jumped up onto the nearest roof, the jacket loose enough he was able to run and leap across the gaps with ease. Granted, it wasn't as comfortable as dropping down onto all fours would be, but he was adjusting with every step.

He made good enough time that the kids - currently just Jamie, Caleb and Claude, and little Sophie - were still greeting Jack when he arrived. Sophie immediately abandoned Jack to cling to Aster. After a bit of confusion over the jacket, she declared it "very pretty" and started playing with the buttons.

"Eggs!" she chirped, and rubbed one until the fake gold gleamed. "You like eggs."

"That I do, sheila," he said. Jack was rough housing with the kids now, and looked to be having the time of his life. He wasn't likely to bother Aster's bonding time with Sophie for a bit. Safe enough to settle down, Sophie's small little life cuddled up against him.

"'M Sophie, not Sheila," she corrected him. "Sheila has brown hair."

Sheila was either a classmate or an imaginary friend. At this age, could be either. "Does she now?" he asked and started combing his claw tips through Sophie's hair. A French braid would be noticeable and confusing for her mother, but the petting soothed the both of them.

Even when they didn't need soothing.

Sophie started to talk, telling him about her class, her friends, her teacher, her stuffed animals, how Jamie was the most annoying big brother, and anything else that popped into her head. The babble was adorable, and Aster was perfectly capable and willing to spend hours just listening to Sophie. She was just such a bright light, cheerful and innocent. Jamie too, but that particular sprog had bonded hard and fast with Jack, and he lit up the most around the winter spirit.

Ah well. Guardians, unlike parents, were allowed to have favourites.

The two Guardians spent time with the children for about an hour, maybe a little over. By that point, Sophie had wound down, and Jamie and the twins were breathing hard from chasing Jack all over the yard. Jack looked as fresh as the proverbial daisy, his fur a bit ruffled but that was all.

"It's getting dark," Caleb pointed out.

"Yeah." Jack looked up at the sky, and made an annoyed sound. "Ugh. Suburbia just makes me want to overload the power grids again. Take out all the annoying street lights, so you can see the stars."

Behind him, Claude mouthed the word 'again' and looked confused.

"Don't do that, you'll end up on the Naughty List again," Jamie pointed out.

Jack grinned, and ruffled Jamie's hair. "Don't you worry about me, kiddo. Anyways, I wouldn't do it _now_. Freak snowstorm bad. Draws the wrong kind of attention."

On Aster's lap, Sophie shifted. "Bunny," she said, diverting attention from Jack. "Why're you wearing clothes?"

"Thought it was pretty. You said it was." He smiled at Jamie's muttering. Sophie looked adorably confused.

"It is pretty," she assured him. "But I wanna know why."

Jack snickered, and flopped down next to Aster. And across Aster's legs. "Because he's dealing with civilization again," he said. "Can't lounge around in his pyjamas all day."

Sophie looked thoughtful, and then grinned. "You were wearing your pjs? Not naked?"

If one assumed his fur was equivalent to pyjamas... "Yup," he agreed. "Not naked." He'd have to be shaved bald to be naked. Not happening.

"Oh," she said, obviously thinking it over. Jamie, in the background, was amusing the twins by thanking every 'deity' the boy could think of. Aster wasn't sure how he felt, being grouped in with God, Allah, the Loch Ness monster, Jack, and Charles Darwin.

Sophie wrinkled her nose. "Okay," she said. "But my pants are itchy. Do I really have to wear them?"

Jack started laughing, at Sophie's question or Jamie's reaction, it was hard to say. "Sounds like you need new pants," Aster said, smiling gently. Ah, children. "They shouldn't be itchy."

"Oh," she said again, and then nodded, her bangs flopping into her eyes. "Okay. I'll talk to Mommy."

"You're better than the Power Rangers," Jamie declared. Jack immediately started to protest, but Aster tuned him out. He didn't even know what the Power Rangers were, what did he care?

Sophie watched the resulting antics with little girl derision, and then cuddled up against Aster's chest. "Boys are stupid," she said.

Aster poked her in the side. "I'm a boy."

"No! You're a bunny!"

True enough. "And Jack?"

Jack chose that moment to leap over Jamie's head, straight into the tree behind the boy. Sophie sighed, sounding long suffering and incredibly wise.

"Jack's the stupidest boy in the entire _world_."

Aster could hardly disagree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post this. Last quiet chapter for a bit. Next week, if I don't die first... Action!


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight - Prelude to a Fight

Aster studied the results of his morning labours, and hummed under his breath. His recent decent into domesticity was entirely the fault of Sophie and Jack. Sophie, well, with her recent desire to be exactly like him, right down to shedding clothes, and Jack... that was more complicated.

Sophie had reminded him that he was a sort of role model. It was one thing entirely when all the kids ever saw was a gray blur on Easter morning and the 'cute' and 'age appropriate' merchandise that made him look like a chubby, pastel coloured mockery. Even the thought made his upper lip curl, revealing not just his incisors, but the stubbly little fangs tucked back in his mouth, normally out of sight.

That was going to change. He intended to let children see more than just a blur. Not that he'd make friends with each and every one of them; even for him, that was quite, quite impossible. But there was no harm in finding those children that needed a bit of help hoping for things. It was his job, after all.

It'd be better, though, if the children saw him wearing clothes. At that young age, things were fairly cut and dried. Animals didn't wear clothes. People did.

At least, that was how Jack had explained it to him. They'd gotten on the subject while walking back to the Den entrance near the lake, taking their time to saunter. Well, Aster had sauntered. Jack had kept getting diverted, brushing up against a rock here, scratching a tree there, finding a small blackberry patch with a few berries left, and sharing the bounty with Aster.

"I know it's stupid, but I do feel a bit better, wearing my sweater." Jack had smoothed a proprietary hand down his sleeve. "It's just, people judge you by your clothes, right?"

He'd agreed; he'd seen it often enough, though he still didn't completely understand why.

"Well, they look at someone naked, there's contempt. Or, y'know, they think someone who's casual about nudity is casual about sex and stuff, too." Jack had flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes, though he hadn't elaborated.

"You're saying you want to wear your clothes again," Aster had said.

Jack had stopped looking pissed, and instead turned sheepish. "Yeah."

"Personal preference," he'd told him. "Lemme see what I can whip up, that jumper can't be too comfortable, as things are."

"Particularly around the armpits," Jack had agreed, and dropped the subject.

After some thought about it, Aster had come to the conclusion that clothing served as a way for humans, and human spirits, to determine rank at a glance. Pooka Canim had been able to do that by instinct, clothes not required - and most Canim, he remembered fondly, had only worn armour, when they wore anything at all - but not everyone had acquired the knack. And humans were like Pooka in mostly minor ways, though he was sure if he said engineering and inventing were 'minor' North would hurt him.

After breakfast, Jack had gone out - co-opting Aster's territory for his own, most likely, not that Aster minded. Was rather charmed by the idea, actually. Regardless of whatever ceremonies had or had not been performed, or words, or contracts, Jack was treating everything Aster had as his own. Just like the strongest of mate pairs did, though what Jack would do if and when Aster started treating Jack's things like his own...

At the moment, it was a moot question. Jack didn't have anything but the clothes on his back - or folded in a trunk, at the moment - which wouldn't fit Aster, and his staff, which Aster couldn't use.

Well, there were the things Jack had gotten as gifts, though as yet they hadn't been brought over to the Warren. And what would Aster do with a - how had Jack described it - hunting blind? He had other ways to get meat, if he really wanted it.

"Bunny!"

"Think of the devil," Aster muttered, sure Jack could hear him. "What, Frosty?"

Jack made a low growling sound, just barely audible to Aster's ears, and stuck his head in through the doorway. "No."

"No?" No what?

"Do not call me anything like that snowman." Aster raised his eyebrows, not that Jack noticed. The Felis was abruptly distracted, staring at all the things in the room.

"Bunny," he said, and tapped a dressmaker's dummy with his staff. "You sew?"

"Rarely," Aster said, and started packing up the needles and thread. "Take a look," he added, and pointed at another dummy.

One wearing, it had to be said, clothes that superficially resembled Jack's human sweater and trousers. Aster could see all the ways he could do better, later. For something he'd whipped up in only a few hours, though, it looked alright. Silk, mostly; he'd had it in the right colors, and Jack didn't need to worry about being too cold. Too hot, maybe, but not cold.

The sleeveless top likely had some fancy name, if going by human fashions, but Aster was quite happily oblivious to that. He still didn't know when humans had switched from corsets to mini-skirts, and didn't care. The top was just a plain, dark blue, and properly cut for a Felis' torso. It was loose enough not to interfere with Jack's acrobatics, but not so loose as to be distracting.

The calf-length trousers were much the same, with a neat hole in the back for Jack's tail. They billowed a bit more than the shirt did, but then, making sure they didn't bind at the hips or knees was important.

"Bunny!" Jack lifted the trousers up, and held them against himself. "This is going to need a belt."

"Meant to," he said, and pointed at the strip of dark brown fabric Jack had originally ignored. "Cloth."

"Like a gi," Jack said, as if that explained it. Probably did, for him. "This is amazing! When did you work on it?"

"This morning," Aster said. "It'll all go back into one of the closets."

Jack looked around. "Which closet?"

"Doesn't matter."

Aster's own clothing was essentially like Jack's, though cut a little closer - he didn't do quadruple summersaults, or contort himself in odd and unlikely ways - and in light and dark green, instead of blue and brown. And bigger in size, of course, but that went without saying.

"Ooh," Jack said, talking through a purr. "I like that shade of green on you." He sauntered over, holding his new top in one hand, and fingered Aster's belt.

"Reckon you like it better thrown to the side," Aster replied, and pulled on the new top. Oh, yes, he'd do much better the next go round. Not that he was any master with a needle, but this was just sad. Or he could bribe a few yeti. That might be worth looking into.

"Yeah, that too," Jack agreed, and switched from fingering Aster's belt, to fingering his collar. "I like. I like a lot."

"Put your shirt on. Get used to the feeling, mate. We've an hour yet before we've got to go."

Jack hummed, and finished getting dressed. He helped Aster put the sewing supplies away, including the rest of the fabric, and looked only mildly amused when it was obvious that Aster was simply putting things away where they best fit, instead of according to a plan or any kind of organization.

"I'm getting you a professional organizer for your birthday," Jack said, when they were done. "I'm sure there's one or two in the spirit world."

Aster laughed at him. "Not on your nelly. I know where everything in this place is, I don't need some bignose poking around messing everything up."

"Big -" Jack snorted, and shouldered his staff. "Your face is half nose," he mock-complained. "You're one to talk."

Aster grinned, and caught Jack about the waist. "Oh no," he purred, urging the Felis back towards the sitting room. And the couch. Especially the couch. "My nose is the proper size for my face. Here, mate, let me show you..."

They spent the remains of the hour 'canoodling', as Jack insisted on calling it. Aster considered it a very enjoyable bit of mutual grooming. In between the nuzzling, smoothing out fur, and the odd lick at an errant tuft, he'd also managed to make Jack, in his new clothes, look delightfully rumpled.

There was that to be said for clothes, Aster thought, admiring the way the light shone on the silk. Jack smoothed his hands down his front, getting rid of the wrinkles Aster had put there. They created an air of mystery about a person's body.

"C'mon," he said, when Jack looked presentable again. "Let's go."

Jack grinned at him. "Race you there!"

He took off while still talking. Aster grinned, and ran after him, pleased that the clothes didn't interfere with his strides.

"You don't want to race a rabbit, mate," he said, and shot past the skinny little Felis with ease.

* * *

The atmosphere was a little less jovial at North's. Making battle plans did tend to be more serious than good natured races and cuddling with one's mate.

North had one, surprised look at the two Pookas choice of clothing, before sobering and gesturing them not to the usual sitting room, but a less comfortable one just off the weaponry vault. Tooth and Sandy were already there; in Tooth's case, directing her fairies, though there were only a handful with her and she sent them off once Aster and Jack joined the group.

"Clothes, Bunny?" Tooth asked, and smiled.

"Yeah, well, can't pull out the fancy dress uniform every time I step outside, can I?" Aster pulled up a chair, and reached over to get one for Jack - only to find the Felis preferred his lap to a chair. It didn't much matter, so far as Aster was concerned, but it was a bit of a distraction.

Only a bit, though, and not enough of one for him to insist Jack skiv off to his own seat. He wrapped an arm around Jack to hold the lunatic steady, though, since the silk clothing was a bit slick.

"So," North said, and clapped his hands. "I think this is less fight plan and more quick talk before fighting?"

"Could've mentioned that," Jack muttered, but he looked amused. Aster was a bit less so.

"North, you gotta tell a bloke when there's going to be a blow," he pointed out. "I don't have any of my gear with me."

"We can stop off at your Warren before going on," North said. "Or," he added, gesturing towards the wall shared with the armoury, "you can help yourself."

North's armoury... After a moment, he swallowed, and hoped he didn't look too eager to get his hands on the weapons therein. North was a collector; if it was dangerous, if it was magical, if it was both, it inevitably ended up in his hands. There were moonblades from the Golden Age, given to him by Ombric and Aster. There were Faerie weapons, created by the finest smiths of the magical age. There was even, supposedly, Excalibur, and all the rest of King Arthur's arms.

Just how North had gotten _those_ pretties out of Underhill, Aster didn't know, just as he was confused as to how the Tuathan Isle of Birth had been mistaken for England...

Ah, that didn't matter. Aster wouldn't be able to wield Excalibur, he was no king or Fae, but there were quite a few other shinies in the armoury that wouldn't mind an alien rabbit wielding them.

"You look like you're about to come," Jack muttered in his ear. "Care to share with the rest of the class?"

Aster grinned, not at all put out by the comparison. "D'you know what kind of lovelies North has in his collection?" he asked. "And I get my pick of the lot."

Jack's face went blank, before he smirked. "And now I know what to get you for... everything. Okay."

Aster chuckled, and looked up at the others. "Oy," he snapped, pointing at the dumbfounded North and equally startled Tooth. "We had to put up with your lovebird antics, about time you endured what we had to."

Sand waved his hand, and then folded his arms.

"Sorry, Sandy," Jack said. "Anyone you're interested in? We can play matchmaker...?"

Sandy waved it off, and flashed a few symbols that, essentially, boiled down to it being alright.

"If you are quite done with the cooing?" North asked. "So. We know where Pitch is, tonight is almost full moon. We are all together. Why not go now? Once everyone has weapons, we can lay down the smack on Pitch."

"The plan has something to say for it, being incredibly simple," Aster thought aloud.

Tooth folded her arms. "I assume that offer of weaponry goes to me, as well? I'm not fighting Pitch with just my fists again, and my swords are back at the Palace."

"Tooth has swords?" Jack muttered, thankfully quiet enough Tooth didn't hear him.

"Twin blades," Aster confirmed. "She's quite good with them, too. I think there's one or two better, but they're also older." And gods, which was another matter entirely.

Jack nodded, and watched North and Tooth as they talked about swords, weight, and just what in the armoury would be best for the Warrior Queen. Jack's own weapon was currently held between his feet, though his toes weren't as flexible as when he'd been human.

Aster had no doubt Jack would take human form again, but for the moment, it seemed, the winter spirit was enjoying his feline existence. As he could say with utmost honesty that he liked Jack no matter what form the young man was in, Aster felt he had no right to give an opinion as to Jack's appearance. Unless asked, of course.

"Hah, good!" North clapped his hands again, and looked at Aster and Jack; Aster specifically. "Come, let us get you weaponry. Tonight will be good night to fight Pitch. I can feel it in my belly!"

He patted his stomach, and beamed.

Aster found the attitude infectious. "Maybe a bit of chocolate from the kitchen, too," he suggested, and helped Jack stand up. "Just in case."

"Oooh!" Jack purred, and got startled looks from the other three, who hadn't quite heard how loud he could get. "Cuddles!"

Aster flattened his ears. "Not until after the smarmy bastard is smashed into paste," he muttered.

"I'll be sure to remind you."

He shook his head. "You mentioned my pick of the armoury?" he asked North, only a little desperately. "Let's go see what options I've got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this my grumbling and snarling over chapter titles. The only thing stopping me from going back and switching it only to numbers is because of how long it'd take, having to do it chapter by chapter. I wish AO3 would give us an option to edit chapter titles the way we edit the tags, but... whatever.
> 
> Also, next chapter is Jack POV. Things happen. Including a discovery of what chocolate does to a Pooka Felis. (Here's a hint - Pooka Canim have the same reaction to chocolate as dogs do...)


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine - Jack's Interlude, Part One

It was a good thing Aster was absolutely adorable, Jack thought. While his lovely mate had the occasional flash of brilliance, he just wasn't very worldly. A warrior, oh yes - the way he went over the swords, the economical way he moved, all just reinforced that observation. But not very worldly.

Of course, if Aster'd had more experience with people - more varied people - Jack wouldn't have been able to pull anything over the old Pooka. He really shouldn't have felt so pleased about that fact, but there it was. Jack, for all he'd been invisible, had watched people for three centuries, observing and learning. Truth and lie, motives both obvious and hidden... mostly he didn't worry about it. It wasn't like he had anyone to interact with! Well, now he did, but back then...

Bunny found a sword he seemed to like the most. He swung it through the air a couple of times, and then nodded. "This'll do me fine," he told North.

Jack wrapped his hands around his staff, so as to avoid making "grabby hands" at Bunny - so, so, so cute, and he wondered what it said about him that a heavily armed Pooka was considered adorable - and grinned. "That looks like the Master Sword from the Zelda games," he said.

Bunny, predictably, looked confused. North looked confused, before the metaphorical switch was flipped and he realized what Jack meant. He started to chuckle, and smacked Bunny on the back. "Now it is said, I agree! The resemblance is uncanny!"

Bunny rubbed his shoulder, scowling, before he relaxed and went hunting for a proper scabbard. Jack did his best not to coo.

North moved to stand next to Jack. The large Russian was less intimidating to the Felis than he'd been to the human. Jack put the blame - or honour? - to the fact that the Felis had sharp fangs and claws. Weird, how a different shape made him react to things, well, differently. When he'd been human-shaped, he'd been constantly nervous whenever he'd been outside his Den, or later, the Warren. He'd hidden it well, since no one had mentioned it, but...

And North was big, and loud, and liked touching people. Jack wasn't used to being touched, though he craved it like those mountain goats craved salt. Bunny touching him was the absolute best. Other people... not necessarily.

As a Felis, though, it was weird; North was still big, but Jack wasn't worried about that. North was louder, to his more sensitive ears, but he was able to turn his ears and kinda muffle the racket. The touching... if Jack had to put it in words, he'd have said he now viewed the touching as only his due.

Bunny didn't know Jack had taken his human form a couple times already, but he much preferred the Felis. Sure, it was a different body, but he just felt so confident all the time, so self-assured, things that he didn't feel as a human. Not for the first time, Jack made a mental note to talk to Bunny about it... and promptly forgot about it.

He didn't really want to talk to anyone about it, anyways.

"Are you sure you don't want weapons?" North asked. He clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder, and then in response to a subtle twitch and glance, began scratching the back of Jack's neck right where he was just starting to itch.

Heh. Being a cat had so many perks, it was hard to keep them all straight.

"I'm sure," Jack said, and smirked. He twirled his staff in one hand. It'd taken three, almost four afternoons to be able to pull the same tricks with his staff as before. Claws were good, but stubby fingers weren't the best for slight of hand stuff. Or staff twirling. "I've got my ice, and now I've got my claws. I'm good."

North gave him one last scratch, and shifted his weight slightly away. "You are certain?" he asked. Jack hid a smile - easier with a muzzle - when he noticed North was not-quite-glancing over at where Tooth was going over different paired blades.

"I'm sure," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me... I think you need me to keep Bunny from clearing you out of all the swords and knives."

North laughed, and headed over to join Tooth. Jack grinned at them, and headed for Bunny. Who wasn't, as he'd warned North, looking to steal everything not nailed down.

Just a few things.

And if you could pry up the nails, it wasn't nailed down, was it?

"What's this one?" he asked, and pressed up against Bunny's back. He leaned against the older Pooka, and peered at the sword that had so entranced Bunny.

It didn't look like much, compared to some of the jewelled and gilded monstrosities around it. It didn't need that sort of flash. The longer Jack looked at it, the harder it was to look away, pay attention to other things. He knew the sword was resting on a display stand, like something out of a museum, the only one that'd been covered by deeply engraved Cyrillic writing, and then painted red and black. Except - the sword seemed to draw all his memories about everything else, the display stand, the surrounding weaponry - from him, until the sword was the only clear thing.

When he started having trouble remembering what color Bunny's eyes were, though, Jack found the strength to look away. All at once, his memories - or awareness - of the things around him returned as if it'd never been gone.

"That's Excalibur," Bunny said, and helped Jack stagger away. "It takes you like that, the first... dozen... two dozen... Well, it takes a while to get over that first attention grabbing it does."

" _The_ Excalibur?" Jack almost looked back at the sword again. He didn't; he could remember it perfectly, down to the least and littlest scratch on the blade, so he didn't need to look again. It'd been a short sword, with the blade just barely three feet long. It'd been double edged, on both sides, and a shallow groove set into the middle - he couldn't remember why the swords got that groove, but most of them had it. The handle had looked like plain metal, something dull and gray, possibly iron, possibly something else, he didn't know, and it'd been worn. The wire wrapping the handle was half missing.

Yet it'd been the most real sword he'd ever seen before in his life.

" _The_ Excalibur," Bunny agreed, apparently unaware of Jack's thoughts. Or not unaware, since he gave Jack a reassuring squeeze to one shoulder. "It's not quite what human stories would have it, since it came from Underhill - Fairyland."

Jack snickered. "I know about that place," he assured Bunny. "Mom's family loved to tell us stories of the Old Land." He paused, and frowned. "Huh. Grandma, I just remembered. She liked to tell us all about how she rode a big, black horse all day and night as a girl, when it came for her brother. She said it'd been all over chains, until dawn, when the chains fell off."

Bunny raised his eyebrows. Jack held up his hand. "I dunno if it was real," he said, ears twitching back for a moment. "She was old. Like, eighty... seven? I think?"

"The average life expectancy for that time was for a bloke or sheila to hit their forties and be old," Bunny mused. Jack elbowed him in the side, because Bunny knew better.

"That's only 'cause of all the dead babies," he said, and sniffed. "Grandmother wasn't even the oldest family member. Just the oldest that I knew, 'cause the others had died before I was born."

"Right, right..." Bunny chuckled, and looked over at North and Tooth. "Looks like they've got what they're after. C'mon. I don't want to be late to the fight."

Yeah, Jack didn't want to be late either. They hadn't given Pitch nearly the thumping he deserved, for the stunts he'd been pulling lately.

He lashed his tail once, and stretched his legs, outpacing Bunny. For a minute. Then Bunny caught up, not even looking like he was walking fast, or trying hard. Jerk. Jack's jerk, though, which he was very, very pleased about.

Bunny had told him Jack was territorial about the Burgess environs, which was true enough, and he didn't need any cute overgrown rabbit telling him so. Jack wondered if Bunny knew how territorial Jack was about the Leporid. Ah, well, if anyone tried making a move, Jack would correct them. If Bunny didn't know yet, he'd find out then.

They gathered together just below North's globe, near the controls for the aurora and a few other things Jack hadn't seen used. Or unleashed. It was North's Workshop, who knew? Could be anything.

"Right." North held up a snow globe, and then passed it to Jack. "You know where Pitch's lair is best. We want just inside maze, no point in wandering around for ages."

"The whole thing's a maze," Jack muttered, but considered his options. The hanging cages room seemed best, thinking about it. There were tunnels and hallways and weird stairs that went up the walls and then you realized that you were standing on the ceiling... at least the hanging cages room obeyed the laws of physics.

He thought hard about that room, and shook the snow globe until the glittering flakes whirled and formed an image of the hanging cages. "Pitch's lair!" he shouted, and threw it several feet ahead.

The portal formed at once, a circular doorway that looked very strange leading onto the dark and gloomy lair. North drew his swords and led the charge, Tooth and Sandy following close behind. Bunny grinned at Jack, the light of a hellraiser in his eyes, and then went through. Jack followed, unable to help the reluctance to enter the lair.

He had good reason, after all. The last time he'd been in Pitch's lair, he'd been harassed and tormented for what had felt like hours... and may very well have been hours, considering.

Jack slunk up to Bunny's side, and looked around. Weirdly enough, his night vision wasn't any better now that he had feline eyes, something that hadn't come up before. Either Pooka Felis had night vision no better than a human, or he'd had great night vision his entire life. Hard to say. Didn't really matter, either.

"Pitch will be here," North murmured, rumbling like a distant volcano.

"Coward's hiding," Tooth replied, just as ominously quiet.

Jack pressed a little closer to Bunny. "Are the shadows moving?" he asked, and then his fur stood on end. The shadows _were_ moving... and they _weren't_ shadows.

Bunny growled, and placed one hand on his sword. Tooth pulled her swords; North already had his out. Sandy readied several whips, looking like he'd watched Katara from The Last Airbender for inspiration one too many times. If that wasn't a pentapus form - known in the real world as "octopus tentacles for everyone" - then Jack would eat his staff.

"Did no one tell you it's rude to invade someone's home?" Pitch strolled out of the shadows, looking at his ease and mildly amused. Jack hissed, ears flattened down against his head. He could sense, vaguely, Pitch's good humour... there was something disturbing about that. It was the first time he'd picked up an adult's sense of fun or joy, and it was... creepy. Extremely creepy.

Sandy began flashing symbols, most of them the 'bleeps' from comic books that replaced swearing. Jack had to grin at that, though he went back to nervous frowning soon enough. The shadows were still moving, after all. And getting closer.

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

Scratch that. This had been a _really bad_ idea.

Pitch grinned at them, and his gaze lingered on Jack. Sensing the winter spirit's fear, obviously. Well, Jack wasn't going to say he didn't feel fear, because he did, but he also wasn't going to let it stop him. He readied his staff, and watched the shadows, instead of Pitch.

"Ill-manners aside, whatever brings you here?" Pitch spread his hands, and began circling around them. The shadows, freakishly enough, seemed to act more like liquid water, making it look like Pitch was wading through knee-high darkness that billowed and ebbed in his wake.

"You know very well what," Bunny growled. He shifted, until Jack could press back against him.

Pitch sighed, and paused. Near Jack. Jack left off glaring at the shadows to glare at Pitch. "What, you don't like my pets?" he asked. "They do so like you."

Jack considered his options, and went for simple. He snarled, and was momentarily surprised at how very snow-leopard he sounded.

Pitch was surprised too, if the way his eyes widened and he backed up a step meant anything.

Yeah, most creatures that started out their evolutionary life as prey tended to get uncomfortable around predators. Interesting that whatever species Pitch belonged to had the same reactions as a sensible human. Go figure.

Jack grinned, and shifted just that little bit to make himself seem less civilized, more 'hungry cat looking for a chew toy'. Pitch scowled at him, but didn't back off again, mores the pity.

The standoff, if that's what it was, was broken by... something... in the shadows moving. Jack froze, suddenly feeling like a very, very small kitty being hunted by very, very big dogs.

Bunny pressed up against his side, warm and welcome, and equally still. Bunny didn't like dogs either. Smart.

"Pitch?" North slid one sword back into its sheathe, and reached into his pocket. "We already know you have fearlings."

Pitch smiled like an urban businessman, amused by a scruffy street musician. "Oh, I know you know. And you know that I know that you know. So on and so forth. Your point?"

"You did not think we would come unprepared, did you?" North turned, and grinned at Pitch.

Jack flattened his ears. The Nightmare King didn't look impressed by the implied threat; rather, he looked amused. The feeling of someone's nasty amusement - he was starting to doubt it was Pitch he was picking up, now - grew stronger.

North pulled his hand out of his pocket, and he held - light.

The light was so intense, the lair seemed thrust into sudden high contrast or something. Every paving stone, every crack in the mortar, was suddenly in high definition. The few colors were completely washed out. The shadows were banished.

Instead of standing knee deep in darkness, Pitch was standing knee deep in...

Not children, Jack thought correcting his initial impulse. Unless these were the children from the Black Lagoon.

One of them smiled at him. With a mouthful of shark teeth.

"Oh," Pitch said, and actually pouted. "You spoiled the surprise. Punish them, my children."

The not-children screeched and lunged for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this came out short - in my defense this chapter almost didn't happen. (For the long story - take a look on my Tumblr, I've been posting like a maniac. Link here: http://kayasurin.tumblr.com/ Hyperlink fail because I'm exhausted.) Short story, I'm babysitting the neighbor's dog for a week, and this is day... three? Saturday, Sunday, Monday... Today's Tuesday, so day four. Heh. I tried sleeping at the neighbor's place like they wanted, and I only had my first, full night of sleep last night. Which should tell you something. Anyways, super exhausted, but I always planned for Jack's POV chapter to be two parts.
> 
> By the way, who's noticed when Jack's POV gets pulled out? Put your answers in the reviews! Winner gets a cyber cookie.


	31. Chapter Thirty - Jack's Interlude, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for implied drug use, though Jack was expecting a result, just... not that one.

"Fearlings," Bunny spat, lunging to meet the attack. Jack wasted half a second in double-taking at Bunny, because - fearlings? These weren't anything like the fearlings they'd dealt with before.

"You sure?" he asked, and started laying down ice. He wasn't going to say he was reluctant, or anything, to hurt these demonic kids, because - well, because they were _demonic_. But he didn't want to start laying in on them with edged weapons like Tooth and North.

Pitch laughed. "Fearling _princes_ , dear Jack."

Dear? _Dear_? Jack smacked one of the fearlings - or fearling princes - aside, and jumped over three more charging at him. Pitch actually twitched at that.

"You," Jack snarled, and coated his staff in a thick layer of ice. More ice continued six inches past the butt, narrowing into a nasty spear-point. "You don't get to call me _dear_. You don't get to call me anything!"

He swiped and jabbed with the sharp and pointy end of his make-shift spear. Pitch, quite obviously, let him. Jack wasn't going to beat his own drum and claim to be any kind of close-in fighter. To beat your own drum, you had to think you were good, and he knew he wasn't.

He was, however, very good as a distraction.

Golden sand wrapped around Pitch's torso, covering him from shoulders to elbow in a tight blanket. Pitch screeched as Sandy lifted him up over the dreamweaver's head, and then slammed him face first into the ground and a small group of fearling princes.

Jack laughed, and pounced on one fearling that was armed with a sharp-edged rock. _These_ fearlings were solid enough to claw and bite, though he was very reluctant to do the latter. The fearling's skin and clothing felt... oily. Nasty and slick.

Jack kicked the fearling away, disarmed and bleeding, and shook first one, then his other hand out. Ugh. Felt like he needed to stick his hands in a vat of boiling soap or something. That was just nasty.

"Jack!" Tooth threw a sword at his head. Then, helpfully, added, "Duck!"

He threw himself forward onto the floor, and didn't look to see what'd gotten skewered.

He had to scramble a little after that - the fearling princes were tough little bastards with strong grips, and he lost a few handfuls of fur getting out of a group of about five - and ended up next to Bunny again.

"So," he asked, and slicked up the floor. The air was still plenty humid, and he had energy to spare. If he could keep to mostly area attacks like the blasts of frost - which, now that he thought about it, needed a cooler name - or icing the floor, he'd be able to keep going for... maybe a week?

"So?" Bunny slashed at one prince with his borrowed sword, and kicked a second in the face. Somehow the kick turned into a fast kata-type string of blows, kicks and punches, that cleared the area briefly.

"Ah, three things." Jack ducked a thrown something or other, probably a rock, and hit a clump of fearlings with a frost blast. "One, what the _hell's_ a fearling _prince_?"

Bunny grinned at him, then went back to fighting like a madman. "Fearlings are fear incarnate given form. Not always solid. Takes energy for Pitch to keep 'em here instead of free-form. Fearling princes... spirits merged with fearlings. No way to separate the two."

Great. Jack snarled, and swiped the crook of his staff through the air. Icicles formed overhead, and then succumbed to gravity and fell on the fearlings. The icicles weren't big enough to do much damage, but they were loud and distracting, and the Guardians were able to regroup and get trusted people at their backs.

Well. Except for Sandy. He and Pitch were squaring off with dream- and nightmare sand, respectively.

Jack wasn't about to go over to that battlefield for anything. Even the fearling princes were staying away.

"Two, then," Jack said. He created another wave of icicles, but it wasn't as effective. They must've been expecting it this time. "Who'd he turn?"

North snarled, and cut down a fearling prince. "Lost boys, looks like. Pyotr isn't here, we would have much more trouble."

Right. North got more Russian during a fight. Good to know.

Jack stepped forward and swung his staff like an enraged golfer, knocking fearling princes to either side. One thing about the little beasts, they were small and not that heavy. About the size of three year old toddlers - if said toddlers had fangs and talons. Really hard to think of them as toddlers with those things going on.

"Three," he said, retreating as his efficiency dropped. He smashed one fearling prince into the ground when it wouldn't let go of his staff. " _How many are there_?"

No one answered him. That many, then.

Jack kept close to Bunny, even when the fighting forced the group to break up. It was easy to lose himself in the strike and block, advance and retreat. He was pretty sure he caused a few small, broken bodies. Dead or just immobile, it didn't matter; the two states looked the same.

He wasn't able to dodge everything. Jack didn't know about anyone else, but he was bleeding.

It... wasn't serious, he was pretty sure. White fur just picked up the color red like no one's business.

Jack turned his attention back to the fight, and laying down the smack.

Laying down the smack would've been easier if the damn things didn't _learn_.

Bunny knocked two down, ducked a flying attack - Jack got that one with his staff, sharp ice slicing through flesh with far too much ease - and grunted when he was mobbed by three of the little monsters. Jack handled the fourth.

"Damn it," Bunny muttered. He flicked his sword, black drops wicked off the metal. "Gonna have to retreat and regroup."

Jack did his best not to pant like a losing racehorse, and nodded. "Not North's better ideas," he managed, and started laying down ice in thick sheets. The fearling princes dropped to all fours and scrambled across the slick surface, hardly slowed.

"Great," he muttered, and followed Bunny back to where Tooth and North were hacking and stabbing.

Tooth looked like she was having just a little too much fun, riding the edge between homicidal mania and desperation. She flitted about like an actual hummingbird at war; the swords made acceptable substitutes for a sharp beak, it seemed.

North, in contrast, looked grimly determined. Like Bunny, he seemed to have realized how bad their situation was turning out to be, but wasn't about to give up without one hell of a fight.

It was _not_ reassuring.

"Hey, North?" Jack stepped back into the slightly protected space between the other three, and pressed one hand to the slash across his ribs. His entire side was now coated with red, fur sticky and in clumps. He had a feeling it wasn't a minor slash at all. "Got a snow globe?"

"Yes," North said. He kicked a fearling prince in the face. The kick turned into a spin, and he chopped both of his swords through two approaching Fearlings. One lost an arm, the other a head, and the rest retreated a couple of steps before attacking again.

"I think we should use one. Now."

Bunny glanced back at Jack, and then did an obvious double-take he couldn't afford. His distraction let the fearling princes through his guard, and he was immediately swarmed.

Tooth helped clear them off. It took a while.

Bunny's chest and stomach were spotted with dark red, just like Jack's side, only there was an obvious trickle from the wounds as the blood poured instead of leaked.

"Fuck," Bunny muttered. He sheathed his sword, and pulled out a bar of chocolate. He broke it in half, and then ate one handful while tucking the other half back in the borrowed belt pouch.

Seconds after swallowing, Bunny hunched over and... growled.

Jack didn't know what the growl did to other people, though the way there was suddenly several feet of clear space in every direction implied certain things, but to him... Fight or no fight, injury or no, that growl just made him want to sink his teeth into Bunny's ear and _pull_. Wrap his legs around the Leporid's hips and pull their bodies flush against each other. Extend his claws and sink them deep into muscled shoulders, that were quickly putting on additional muscle and extra shoulder joints.

"Hello there," he said, voice barely louder than Tooth's shaky exhale. Bunny, looking all kinds of fun primal male, lifted his head and stared at Jack.

When the chocolate-addled Leporid caught sight of Jack's blood-clumped fur, well... Yeah. Okay, the rage? Not much fun being the focus, though at least Jack wasn't the one in trouble.

And for half a minute after Bunny started rampaging through the fearlings, he actually started to think that they didn't need the snow globe after all.

Except the fearling princes weren't as easily squished as the fearlings had been. The fearlings Bunny had previously taken out when berserk had been polite enough to turn into black smears on the ground that slowly faded out of sight, unable or unwilling to reform. The fearling princes... squished, but they bounced back if not outright killed.

Jack saw one fearling prince crawling towards him, both his right arm and leg taken off at the shoulder and hip, respectively. It couldn't walk, but it could drag and push with its remaining two limbs.

In between a flashback to a zombie movie he'd seen recently, and shuddering in horror, he killed it.

"We need to go," he told North, and pressed his hand to his side again.

"Yes," North agreed. He cleared a small space around him with brutal efficiency, and pulled out a snow globe. "Tooth! Sandy!" He glanced over at Jack. "You get Bunny."

Yeah, no kidding. Bunny just barely tolerated the others when he was regularly grumpy. Berserk Bunny liked to bite them. Or at, since he hadn't actually got anyone last time...

_Focus, Jack._

He jumped and dodged across the room, doing his best to avoid actually fighting. Pity the room wasn't a little bit bigger; it was just small enough he couldn't fly, not really.

"Bunny!" he called, almost there, and then was cradled by two massively muscled arms. He nuzzled an equally massive and muscled chest, relieved, and pulled away a bit. "Get to North! We're leaving!"

Bunny roared, but seemed willing enough if the chaos he made on his way towards North meant anything.

Jack, not having to fight, checked Bunny for the bleeding wounds he'd been sporting before. Weirdly enough, the Leporid seemed completely healed. Of those bites, at least; he'd picked up more on his shoulders and arms, but they were superficial at best.

Bunny rumbled, and stepped on a fearling prince with casual disregard. He... said... something, but it was so slurred and distorted - like someone trying to talk through a mouthful of marbles, and the end result filtered through a tiger's snarl - that Jack didn't understand him. He stared up at Bunny in complete incomprehension.

Bunny made a sound that was pure frustration, and spoke again. This time, Jack was able to make out "Choco-something", presumably chocolate.

"The... chocolate... healed you?" he guessed.

The Leporid rumbled in a way that seemed happy. Well. Good guess then.

Jack rubbed his side, and then eyed the sword belt stretched to the breaking point around Bunny. There was still some chocolate left. Okay, so he wasn't happy about the idea of being out of control, but the healing sounded like a very good thing right now.

"Make sure I don't eat anyone," he muttered, and started rummaging through the pouches. There weren't many, so it made it easier to find what he was looking for.

He ate the bar quickly, and made a face. Dark chocolate. Ugh.

And... nothing.

Jack looked down at his hands, which weren't duplicating, and then up at Bunny, who seemed oblivious to what Jack had just done.

"Finally!" North waved his arm at Sandy. "Sandy! We are the leaving now!"

The dreamweaver drifted towards them, his sand whips picking fearling princes up and flinging them away. Pitch wasn't far behind.

North threw the snow globe.

Things got a little confused after that. Jack didn't know if it was the chocolate - taking a long time to take effect - or the trip, or what, but several embarrassingly long minutes later, he was able to take stock of the situation.

The gash or slice in his side, he didn't know what it was anymore, didn't hurt. That was something. Tooth and North were there. Sandy was attacking fearling princes and oh, Pitch had gotten his regular nightmares out. That was... important?

He thought it was important.

Bunny was still holding him. That was nice. Jack nuzzled Bunny's shoulder, which was nice and warm and solid and... This wasn't right.

Jack tried to pull away, but between Bunny's warmth and Bunny's arms, he couldn't. Didn't want to. Why did he want to pull away? He didn't. He liked Bunny's warmth. And smell. Oooh, the Leporid smelt good. Like clover and rich earth and musk.

He clenched his eyes shut, and frosted his fur over. Bunny actually yelped, and dropped him. That helped. He landed on his tail, and it hurt, which definitely helped. Cleared his head.

The fearlings... fearling princes. They were... there. Something about them... It was important. Jack snarled, and lifted one hand to his head. Something important. If only he could think!

He just couldn't think!

Pitch... something about Pitch. Was Pitch doing something? Pitch was always doing something, and it was wrong. He... something about stopping Pitch?

Jack growled again, and lashed his tail. Pain from the bruise helped clear more of the fog away, so he did it again.

But the instant Bunny stepped between Jack and an attack... probably an attack... the fog descended.

And it didn't seem so bad to let it rise up, and take over.

Jack felt better, and stretched. His side didn't hurt. The amusing little people fighting each other didn't bother him. Not his problem. That nice, big, handsome Leporid was his, though.

He licked his lips, and dropped the stick he was holding. It only got in the way when he tried to move forward. Without it, his paws were silent in the grass, and he prowled forward unimpeded, until he was within pouncing distance.

There were noises everywhere, loud and piercing. Jack made no sound. He was sure of it. Yet when he pounced, the Leporid turned, two arms lifting to protect his neck.

A good thing Jack hadn't gone for the neck. Why would he? The ears were so much more... _fun_.

He sank one fang into the tip of the Leporid's ear, and purred at the male's almost violent shudder. Some of the noises turned shrieking and annoying, but they were easy enough to ignore. Much nicer to nibble up and down the ear he held, lick at the spots of blood, and listen to the Leporid's rumbling moans.

" _What are you **doing**_?" Someone very loud and shrieking came close. Jack slit one eye open, and growled. His Leporid snarled, and he sank his claws into his mate's shoulder in warning. _Jack_ was the one in control. His Leporid was supposed to let Jack do what _he_ wanted...

And what he wanted right now was to _gut_ the dark, shrieking thing.

Jack rumbled low in his throat, and stared at the dark thing in clear warning. Stupid thing didn't back away. Fine then.

Ice reached further than claws, and bit deeper. He sniffed, pleased when the dark thing stumbled away, and went back to laving his Leporid's ear with his tongue.

At some point there was a great deal of noise and more people. Annoying things, people. Jack flattened his ears and hissed at one that got too close. It backed away, which was good, because he wanted to play with his mate more. Not kill annoying people that bothered him.

Maybe he should take his mate somewhere else. A den. Someplace where there weren't so many people. Jack considered it, but his mate began to writhe and shrink, four arms retracting into his mate's body. Strange.

He would wait. When his mate woke up, Jack would decide whether to take him to a den, or ignore the people and have fun where they were. The den would be better, though. It was hard to have fun with all the new people that stank of dog watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the most understated Big Damn Heroes entrance ever.
> 
> Okay. Guys. People have been leaving me reviews with prompt ideas, and... I'm really glad you think I could carry off writing Jack (or Bunny) with this condition or that one, but, uh... One, I have a long, _long_ list of story ideas to write, and two, much as I appreciate the thought, I'd need a lot more than just "character with this condition!" be it blindness or erectile dysfunction. So, yeah. If you want to submit your prompts, perhaps try the Kink Meme? I go on it regularly to see what ideas are floating around, and not only that, more people than just me will see it.
> 
> I'll even include a link: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/


	32. Chapter Thirty-One - I Want to go to Bed

There were times when Aster really, truly hated chocolate. Generally whenever he came down off a berserk episode that'd been triggered by the stuff was when he hated it the most. There were other times, usually in the lead up to Easter, when he hated it for not doing what he wanted - not cooling fast enough, or heating up too slow, or _that one time_ every single batch had come out _wrong_ and he'd had to fall back on the old 'hard-boiled egg' trick, which had really confused the kids of Miami, Florida. He'd come close to swearing off chocolate that year.

Waking up with an armful of amorous Felis, nightmare sand scattered about that Sandy was slowly cleaning up, and surrounded by interested Pooka Canim, wasn't the worst awakening he'd ever had.

It was one of the weirdest, however.

Jack moaned, and arched against him. It was... extremely distracting, and Aster felt he really couldn't be blamed for focusing more on the way Jack's chest pressed into his, or the curve of Jack's neck, or the way Jack smelt of lust...

"Bunny?" North asked, sounding just a touch desperate. "Bunny, should I lop this wolf's ears off? I am being sniffed and I do not like it!"

What?

"Wolf?" he asked. Jack bit his ear.

"Bunny! Прекратить заниматься сексомДжека! _Do I kill this wolf or not_?"

There were days he was really happy he didn't speak Russian. This was turning into one of those days.

"North, what?" he asked, and carefully scruffed Jack. It was both easy and really difficult to pull Jack off him; the Felis seemed perfectly willing to do whatever Aster wanted him to do, but he'd gone boneless and moving deadweight was never the easiest thing in the world.

A Pooka Canim, with dark red fur and bright yellow eyes, crouched down and stared at him. "Why did you stop?"

Aster opened his mouth, and then couldn't think of anything to say.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear a fight start up. Apparently North had decided to attack the wolf. Or something.

Jack made a plaintive sound, and pawed at Aster's chest.

The Pooka Canim gestured at Jack. "By all means, continue. This is _fascinating_."

... The _hell_ was going on here?

* * *

Aster shoved Jack back, and yanked the door shut in the half-second his mate was off balance. Almost the instant the latch clicked, he heard the thump of an angry Felis hitting the door and bouncing off. The second after that, the screeching started.

He flipped the lock without a smidge of guilt, and hurried away from the bedroom to the meeting room where the highest-ranked Canim, and the other Guardians, were waiting.

Canim. Pooka Canim, and they'd mentioned more than just the fifty-thousand - _fifty_ -fucking- _thousand_ \- currently part of the crew-slash-army. Not that the leader, still unnamed but probably related to one of his old family members by the black fur, had said army, but they were Canim. The default state of Canim in a group was 'army'. Maybe squad if the group was small enough.

He staggered into the sitting room, doing his best not to, but he couldn't quite help it. He was exhausted, had the expected pain in his shoulders from earlier, and he'd been fighting down arousal since he'd woken up with Jack molesting his ears. At least he could blame his unsteady gate on the exhaustion and pain... except the Canim all had twitching noses, and knowing slants to their ears.

Aster snarled at them, and pointedly tapped the sword that was still, surprisingly, at his hip. "None 'a you need cubs," he pointed out. The two brown-furred Canim looked affronted, but the black-furred leader looked delighted. The other Guardians shifted nervously, but then Canim tended to look homicidal when happy.

"Bunny," North snapped. He rubbed a finger against a scratch that went from his temple, through his eyebrow, over his nose, and to his chin. "Who are these?"

"How'm I supposed to know? Never met them before in my life. And stop touching that, it'll scar." He sat down, shifting the sword around so he didn't kill himself with a pommel to the gut, and frowned until North lowered his hand.

"Scars can be dashing," Tooth pointed out.

"He's Santa, he's not allowed to have scars. The tattoos were pushing it."

"That's true..."

"Besides," he added, since Sandy was urging him too. "Gangrene is much less dashing."

This time, when North reached up to touch the scratch, Tooth smacked his hand.

Aster smirked, and then turned his attention to the Canim. "So," he said, feeling curiously numb. It'd been a long day. There were more Pooka - not Jack, half-blood and hidden, but full-blood Canim that claimed greater numbers than some countries - and they were sitting in North's sitting room, making the chairs look like child-sized furniture.

What was he supposed to feel? Happy? Confused? Curious? Sad, as if being the last was something to be proud of? Mostly, he just felt tired.

"So," the black-furred leader said. Apparently the Canim, or at least this one, had trouble with English. The accent was a harsh one, with no similarity to any human languages. Absently, he had to wonder just where the Canim had learnt English.

"Who are you?" Tooth asked. When Aster looked over, he realized she was translating for Sandy. "And how did you get here?"

The three Canim all turned their attention to her, looking decidedly unfriendly. Aster grunted, and pointed at North.

"Any of them misbehave, you get to castrate the offender. I'm too tired."

North scowled at him. "I am tired too. I do not want to have to get up and cut bits off rude little dogs. Besides. They are not _my_ problem!"

"Boys, boys." Tooth folded her arms. "I can castrate my own idiots, thank you. I don't need any help."

Aster looked over at Sandy, to see if he had anything to add. He did, but it was fairly simple, just a halo overhead and an innocent expression.

"You are a lying liar who lies," he pointed out. "You'd do the most damage."

Sandy grinned at him.

The Canim looked as amused as the species ever got. One of the brown-furred ones - at some point, he really needed to learn their names - looked at the other, and growled in the Canim-specific language, "The shaved monkeys are cute."

Aster frowned, and growled back, "You have no idea who they are. They can gut you and leave you for the crows before you stand up."

The three Canim all stared at him. He glared back, and then sniffed and rolled his eyes. "Please," he said, in English. "Of course I speak Canim."

"So you know what they are," North murmured, and nodded. "Good. _Will_ there need to be castration? Yeti will be angry if floor needs cleaned of blood. It stains."

The black-furred Canim looked at North, and flicked an ear in dismissal. "No," he said, and the two brown-furred Canim ducked their heads. The black-furred one grinned, showing a large number of sharp teeth. "Perhaps introductions are in order?"

"First tell me how you learnt English." Aster pulled the sword belt off, and tossed the whole thing to the other side of the couch. It made it halfway.

The black-furred Canim shrugged. "The radio waves," he explained. "We listened, and learned. The..." he paused, and glanced at North, "natives are obsessed with sex."

Aster stared at him for a moment, and then grunted. "Right. Names. You first."

"Why?"

"Because I'm half-convinced you're a hallucination."

The black-furred Canim blinked, and then shrugged. "Fair enough." He gestured at the two Canim beside him. "Tarsh and Kalv, sons of Navaris. And I," he said, voice dropping into a low rumble, "am Varg, son of Laysh, warleader of the True Blood pack."

Aster blinked, and tilted his head. Then he looked over at the others, and gestured for them to go first.

North frowned at him, but nodded. "This is Sanderson Mansnoozie," he said, gesturing to Sandy. "Dreamweaver, former star pilot, and Guardian of Dreams. I am Nicholas St. North, in short, Guardian of Wonder. And this lady is Toothiana, the Warrior Queen who is Guardian of Memories. And...?" He paused to raise one eyebrow at Aster.

"Edelweiss Aster Bunnymund, adopted of the True Blood pack," he said, with hardly any inflection. This had to be a hallucination.

The black-furred Canim, Varg, actually twitched. Yeah, now that Aster was looking, Varg reminded him a great deal of his brothers; tall, with that particular lean muscle that only a Canim could pull off, and at least in this brat's case, enough white-fur scars scattered about his hide he'd look dark gray at a distance. Not quite as many as Vargtalen, who'd looked like he'd been splotched white and gray, and had been missing a whole ear, but a respectable amount.

Nothing at all like the chubby, giggling puppy he remembered.

Absently, he really had to wonder just what Claek and Laysh had had about the names starting with 'Varg'. Vargrassen, Vargtalen, Varg... It was a bit of a theme.

"You are... the Leporid that had been adopted by the pack leaders Laysh and Claek?" Varg asked, speaking as though he was suddenly having trouble stringing words together.

The other two Canim had gone still and silent in an ominous way. Not that they themselves were about to do violence, but more as though they were hoping violence would pass them by.

Aster closed his eyes, suddenly feeling... tired. More tired. "Yes," he said, and didn't bother opening his eyes to see Varg's reaction. He wasn't entirely sure he _could_ open his eyes.

"But... how?" A chair creaked, presumably Varg's as he shifted. "We thought you lost."

Aster flipped him off. "Magic," he snapped, as much as he could. "Don't kill anyone. I'm going to go make sure Jack's not destroyed the room. He's... Tetchy," he said.

The Pooka Canim got it, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost murdered this chapter in frustration. Next chapter will probably be another Jack's Interlude... once he sobers up.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two - Jack's Interlude

Waking up was at once abrupt and borderline painful. Jack whimpered, and rolled over onto his back. It felt like... it felt like he'd scraped his knee and _then_ the scrape got transferred to his groin and _then_ someone stuck a hot water bottle on top.

He cracked open one eye, and looked down at his abused body part. His fur was sticky with... lube and old semen... and his penis had yet to retract into its sheathe. Probably because it was just as tired as the rest of him. Had he been running a marathon?

Then he winced, because oh, that did not look good. "'m gonna havta amputate?" he muttered, and carefully poked at... yeah that'd been a bad idea.

In order to distract himself from thoughts of possible amputation, he looked around. Bunny was beside him, he noticed absently, focusing more on his surroundings. Large, king sized bed, lots of pretty wood carvings - headboard, canopy posts, the wall paneling - and shiny fabric, red and gold primarily, that looked to be made out of satin, for everything that could possibly be covered in fabric. After a confused second or two, he realized it was one of North's guest rooms, and relaxed.

He looked over at Bunny, and got confused all over again.

The Leporid was dead asleep, out like a light and not likely to wake any time soon. He was face down in a pillow, which had apparently muffled the snoring enough that Jack had been able to ignore it. His rump was in the air, and it was very, very obvious what they'd been doing that had resulted in Jack's penis looking like... that.

Apparently Pooka could get chaffed raw, even with the amount of lube everywhere. Good to know.

Though, for some reason, the scent of the room... and them... hadn't immediately triggered a realization the instant he woke up. Jack breathed in through his mouth, and then started coughing. Oh. That explained it. His nose had gone dead to the sheer amount of... scent... Wow.

He shook his head, feeling a little like he'd drunk a bottle of his granny's hard cider, and then hit him over the head with the bottle. His penis, stupid thing that it was, tried to twitch in interest, and only hurt all over again.

Right. First things first. Clean himself up... maybe find something to take the sting away from... things down south of the border.

Jack moved over to the side of the bed, and stood up. His legs felt amazingly rubbery, as did most of the rest of him. He somehow managed to stagger across the room to the two doors in the wall opposite the bed. The first door turned out to be to a closet, which had been piled high with... tissue boxes, it looked like. North's mind clearly worked in strange and mysterious ways.

The second door opened onto the bathroom he'd _known_ had to be there. Jack let his breath out in a relieved whoosh. Much as he enjoyed playing around with Bunny, and sex - at least, he hoped he'd enjoyed what had to have been a sex _marathon_ \- he couldn't say he was all too fond of the way semen dried his fur into clumps and took forever to get out.

To say nothing of what the lube did.

North apparently didn't believe in showers, because he'd put what looked like an old fashioned tub, complete with copper water boiler, in the bathroom. Jack started the water boiler, after first making sure it was full. There was more than enough for several baths. At least he didn't have to play with fire; that part was fully magical. All he had to do was press a button, and the water boiler got started.

It didn't make the water heat up immediately, though. So he had time to kill.

There was a large number of jars on the countertop. Jack started unscrewing lids and sniffing at the contents. The second jar he tried smelt like an herbal ointment Bunny had about the Warren, for scrapes and blisters. He tried a small dab to the base of his penis, and the cooling relief began immediately. He certainly didn't need any further encouragement.

He set that jar aside later, for another dose, and Bunny would probably want to make use of it... Jack thought about how raw Bunny had looked, and winced. Yeah, no question there. Bunny would want the ointment too.

While the water heated, he investigated the rest of the jars. He didn't recognize anything else, though some of it smelt like scented hand lotion, and others seemed vaguely medicinal if what he smelt meant anything, but nothing like what he remembered from his childhood, or what he'd been exposed to around Bunny's Warren.

The water was done about the same time as his running out of jars, so he readied his bath. It was just a little hotter than room temperature; a little cooler than he'd preferred in human-shape, but not by much. Bunny had been surprised that Jack liked hot baths, but... Jack had scrubbed off in far too many ice cold ponds and streams - sometimes literally ice cold, what with all the _ice_ he'd had to hack through to get at the water - to want to do any more of _that_ willingly.

That, and it was harder to have flashbacks to the whole drowning thing when the water was warm. Not that he'd told anyone or anything. Just his little secret.

Halfway through lowering himself down, he thought about his penis, and glanced down - only to find that it'd retracted back into his sheathe, finally, apparently recovered and healed up enough to do so. He finished sinking down into the tub, which in true North fashion had clearly been made with both Russia, and the big guy, in mind. Jack could've swum laps.

He soaked for a bit, and then got the soap and started washing. Halfway through he began missing his human skin. Fur was really hard to get clean.

After a few minutes trying to de-clump his fur, Jack stopped and almost hit himself in the eye with the bar of soap. Sometimes he had to wonder about himself...

It took a moment's concentration - well, a little over, one minute and thirty-nine seconds - and then he was scrubbing at his skin, which felt slightly tingly. Fair enough, until recently he'd had his fur acting as a form of clothing, his skin wasn't used to being so exposed any more.

When he got out, he reapplied the salve to his once more visible penis, and then padded out into the bedroom, jar in hand.

Then he paused, set the jar down, and went back into the bathroom.

Jack stared into the mirror, and then twisted to look at the tail that was still, despite his transformation, there. He swished it back and forth a few times, dripping. After a second or two, he got his used towel and started squeezing the water out of his fur.

That done, he looked back into the mirror. Specifically at the cat ears poking up through his hair, and the lack of human ears at the side of his head.

He concentrated. Nothing happened. He closed his eyes, opened them, and the ears and tail were still there.

Jack scowled, and almost hissed at his reflection. He managed to stop in time, and rolled his eyes.

"If I did that, I'd spray spit over everything," he said aloud, in the hopes that would make it stick in his memory better. Never worked before, but there was a first time for everything.

He shook his head, and went back out into the bedroom.

Bunny was still sleeping, apparently not having moved an inch while Jack was in the bathroom. Jack smiled at him, and then found his Felis clothing. The pants and top were oddly proportioned to his human body, but the pants had the hole for his tail, and it was better than going naked.

Jack settled down in a comfortable chair, and curled up. His spine must have remained more Felis than human, too, because he was certainly more flexible than before. At least, he thought he was.

Apparently he was more patient, too, which _had_ to be a carry-over from his other form. Certainly, before changing shape, he wouldn't have been able to stay still for more than five minutes for any reason, even if doing so led to one of the greatest and most amusing pranks ever. Though, part of the reason for that was he'd been frequently hunted by various parties, including the fearlings. That kind of discouraged any sort of... settling in one place for longer than an hour.

It just hadn't been _safe_.

But as a Felis, it'd felt natural to settle down in one place for hours at a time, simply observing. Granted, most of his time had been spent in the Warren, with the occasional trip topside with Bunny. He'd never been alone, and he'd always been safe. And this was North's Workshop. If he wasn't safe _here_ , then he wasn't safe anywhere, even beside Bunny.

Jack rested his cheek against his hands, folded on top of the chair arm. His tail swayed back and forth in time with his thoughts, which quickly drifted from his past and current circumstances, only to settle on what Bunny looked like.

Debauched, obviously. Very obviously. Jack actually had to snicker, because... yeah. Bunny was going to need a bath, and a hand with washing himself off. Maybe two hands. Though Jack was pretty sure any additional nookie would be limited to above the waist, at least until they'd healed up a little. Chaffing anywhere hurt, but down there?

Bunny also looked exhausted, and... Huh. He was probably going to wake up with one hell of a crick in the neck, if Jack didn't do something.

And it'd be something to do. Just because Jack could hold still for hours at a time now, didn't mean it was something he actually considered enjoyable.

He got up and moved over to the bed. Shifting Bunny to a more relaxed looking pose was both easy and hard. Easy because Bunny wasn't all that heavy, and it wasn't like he was picking the Leporid up and carrying him off, just rolling him onto his side and making sure his spine wasn't bent at improbable angles. Hard, because Bunny was deadweight and kinda floppy with it. Not the easiest thing to move.

He persevered, though, and when he was done rearranging the rabbit, crawled into bed behind Bunny. Despite himself, he started to drowse off, lulled by the comfortable mattress, being clean, and the scent of his mate.

He woke up when Bunny stirred, and groaned.

"Hey," he whispered. "How're you feeling?"

Bunny groaned again. "Stiff," he said, only a little louder than Jack. "Feel a bit... raw."

Jack winced. "Yeah, been there, felt that... Found an awesome salve. I can-"

"No offense, mate." Bunny started to sit up, and groaned. "I don't want your _anything_ near my arse right now."

Despite himself, he had to grin. "Well, I can give you the salve, at least."

Bunny nodded, and then started stretching out his neck and shoulders. Jack left him to it, at least until he got the jar of wonder-salve and returned with it.

"Here," he said, and grinned at Bunny's startled expression. "Yeah. I figured... What happened?"

Bunny got a glob of salve, and began anointing his behind. Jack didn't look away. He was the cause, after all. And he really shouldn't feel any amount of pride in that.

He'd feel bad when Bunny was detangling his fur.

"Right then," Bunny said. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Jack made a show of thinking it over. "Well, we were fighting Pitch... and you'd eaten some chocolate. And... did I?"

"Yes," Bunny said, and looked up. "You did. At least, that's what I figure, considering the other half of the chocolate bar was gone. Turns out, chocolate doesn't have the same affect on Felis as it does on Leporid."

"Oh." He frowned. "So, what does it do? Get me drunk?"

"Close." Bunny went back to work, dabbing the salve against raw skin. "Crikey but that feels better. Felis tend to be sterile most of the time, except for... I'd say about two weeks, three weeks, when they're as _bountiful_ as any fertility spirit. Only time a Felis can knock someone up, or get knocked up. Tetchy, it's called."

He stared at Jack, looking wryly amused. "Normally, I doubt you'd go out of your mind and completely sex obsessed, like you were. But having your Tetchy period condensed into a few days seemed to have one hell of an effect."

"No kidding," Jack muttered. "Wait, I was in _heat_?"

" _And_ rut, if you want to use those words." Bunny stood up, and stretched. His spine made several loud pops and cracks, and he winced. "You mentioned a bath?"

"Yeah." Heat and rut? Jack scowled, and picked up the jar of salve as he followed Bunny into the bathroom. "So how come I end up going sex-crazy for a couple of weeks?" he demanded.

"Because... Leporid don't get Tetchy? We're like humans, down to the female monthly cycle and all. Felis aren't. Canim..." Bunny stumbled, and stood stock-still in the middle of the bathroom. "Strewth, the Canim..."

"Bunny?" Jack dropped the jar in the general direction of the countertop, and caught the Leporid before he fell all the way to the ground. "Bunny? What's wrong? What is it?" Something he could ice. Or kill. Something he could tear into quivering bits for making Bunny shake and sob like this.

"The Canim," he sobbed, and pressed his face to Jack's shoulder. "There were Canim."

"Yeah...?" Leporid, Felis, Canim, Equus, Aquilae... "You were raised by them."

Bunny whimpered, and clung. His claws managed to tear through the thin fabric of Jack's shirt. He couldn't get too worked up over that. Okay, at all. He wasn't nearly as attached to this shirt as he was to, say, his sweater.

He rubbed his cheek against Bunny's head, and then nipped at the base of one ear. "C'mon, talk to me. What's going on?"

"The Canim," Bunny repeated, his breath hitching. "They're _here_."

Jack frowned. "Here?" he repeated, actually pointing down at the floor.

And then he realized what Bunny meant.

Here, on Earth.

Here, where Bunny had seen them. Probably the fight with Pitch, since Jack didn't remember them...

... Maybe even here at the Workshop.

The Canim. Other Pooka. Pooka that - before Jack - Bunny had thought all gone. Even after Jack, he apparently hadn't held out much hope for too _many_ survivors. Jack's father had shown up three centuries ago, after all, alone and lost. Not exactly a good sign, really. It must have been easier for Bunny, after all those years, to grieve and move on...

And now it turned out that he'd given up hope too soon, because there were Pooka.

A lot of them, if Jack was translating the garbled, tear-sodden explanation properly.

His heart was trying to beat triple-time in his chest. Other Pooka? It didn't mean quite the same thing to him as it did to Bunny, but...

His father had to have come from somewhere, right?

Jack swallowed, and rubbed one hand up and down Bunny's back. He crooned wordlessly, until the Leporid had calmed down a little. Not much, but enough Jack didn't have to translate every word.

"Tell me about the Canim that are here," he prompted.

"Talked ta three," Bunny said, his voice cracking on two out of the three words. "One of 'em's Varg. M' lil' brother."

Oh. Ouch.

"'e's m' brother," Bunny whimpered. "An' I dun' know 'im at all."

Jack didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure there was anything he could say.

All he could do was hold Bunny close, and give what comfort he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey, a day late and a dollar short, but chapter was written. (At least partially on cold meds, so... quality may vary. And Corgi hasn't had a chance to look the chapter over yet. There may be edits later, to eradicate the typos.) 
> 
> For the curious, my illness seems to have shifted from the "Oh god kill me now" miserable flu to "Well, I sorta feel better, but I have no voice" that I'm currently dealing with. As I work in a call center, this has caused something of a... problem, you could say. I'm off work for the week, and if I haven't gotten my voice back by Friday, doctor time! (I finished a chapter of my original story, and am at Mt. Pyre in my Pokemon game, having picked it up last Monday. I've been productive with my time, if nothing else.)


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three - Family Portrait

Aster tossed Jack's shirt aside, and made a face. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice only a little hoarse from his - call it what it was - emotional breakdown earlier. "I'm sure the yeti could fix it. I don't have what I need, though."

Jack shrugged, drawing Aster's attention to his shoulders. His perfect, creamy shoulders, not a blemish or blotch to be seen, not even a freckle. And those collar bones, like perfect wings. Aster didn't remember previously wanting to gather his mate close and then bite that collar, but he really, really wanted to right now.

Strange, considering the rest of his body was almost cringing at the thought of _more_ sex.

He thought Jack had remained Tetchy for two days. He'd actually taken a nap in there, before finally passing out from exhaustion. It wasn't as if he'd had to do much, beyond let Jack do as he would. It'd been a simple rut, in the end, though a long one. Nothing at all like lovemaking. At any rate, he would be perfectly happy if all their activity remained above the waist for a few days, and he doubted Jack would mind.

"I don't mind," Jack said, in an uncanny echo of Aster's thoughts. Though not for long, since he continued, saying, "I think I've gotten used to feeling halfway-naked. At least it was the shirt and not the pants."

Aster nodded, and eyed the very Felis tail swaying behind Jack. And then the equally Feline ears poking up through silver hair. Hair that was a bit longer than he remembered; had it always fallen into Jack's eyes, and then to about his chin?

He didn't think so.

"Yeah," Jack said, and tugged on one lock. "It grew." He shrugged, and turned for the door. "So, shall we go meet your family?"

"Ah, yeah." Aster straightened up. "Jack? I should warn you about the Canim."

"Cats, dogs, get along like. I'll be good, I promise." Jack's grin had a hint of fang, even though his dental work was human-normal.

Considering Jack's idea of being good involved snowballs and mad cackling... Aster twitched. Just the thought of what the Canim would do in response was enough to send him scuttling after his mate, trying to catch Jack before the train wreck hit.

He wasn't successful. Jack waltzed into the sitting room, which unfortunately had the three Canim and the other Guardians, as well as a cranky looking yeti and a handful of elves. Jack paused in the doorway, so unexpectedly Aster almost bowled him over. His mate glanced backwards, an amused glint in his eyes, before he moved over to the last empty couch, a small loveseat that he promptly took over through the simple expedient of sprawling across it.

Aster stayed where he was, tense but balanced. The Canim - Varg, and the other two... Tarsh and Kalv, that was it - stared at Jack with varying degrees of affront and amusement. Varg seemed to have more good humour about the situation, but that didn't exactly mean anything.

"So," Jack said, studying the Canim as intently as they were studying him. "These're the dogs, huh?"

One of the brown Canim - he wasn't sure which one was Tarsh and which was Kalv - curled his upper lip. He turned to the other brown Canim, and growled in their language, " _The Felis oversteps itself._ "

Varg chuckled, a low, rolling growl that almost managed to put Aster at ease, it was so much like Laysh's. His younger self had known nothing bad would happen, as long as Laysh was still able to laugh before a battle.

" _Perhaps,_ " Varg said. He twitched a few whiskers, and then turned to look at Aster, still in the doorway. "Going to join us?"

"That depends," he said, aware of the Guardians reacting to his tone of voice. "We gonna get thequestion out of the way now, or later?"

Varg narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like there was any other problem they could have; he'd been as clear as he needed to be. Perhaps more than. Sure, the others obviously didn't get it, but they were human. More or less.

Jack sat up, and managed to look adorably confused.

"Now is good," Varg said.

And then launched himself at Aster, teeth first.

Aster ducked the attack, and put his shoulder to Varg's gut. Claws raked up his back, and the immediate trickling feeling was suddenly several degrees past annoying. Aggravating, maybe. Scratches? What, was Varg still a puppy?

He pulled away, and kicked a feint-and-roundhouse, his shin slamming into Varg's shoulder. Despite his training and flexibility, there just wasn't any way he'd be able to reach the Canim's head, not unless he tried a spinning jump kick. Which would just be stupid, even for him. The move was a sacrifice gambit. If he didn't knock Varg out with one blow - and it was _Varg_ , that wasn't happening - he'd be off balance and easy prey.

So that meant he'd have to work a little harder, and the fight would go a little longer.

He'd manage.

Varg was a hands-and-fang fighter, it seemed. Where Aster kicked, he clawed. Where the Leporid jabbed, Varg snapped his teeth and almost caught Aster's ear.

"Hey," Jack mock-complained. Aster spared half a second to glance over at his mate, who was... lounging against the couch arm, looking like he was enjoying the view. The arse. "Those ears belong to me. No touchy, dog breath."

North moved into view, swords in hand. Great. Aster spun around Varg and landed a blow to the Canim's kidneys that had him roaring, and glared at North.

"You! Sit down and stay out of it!"

Then he put his attention where it needed to be, on Varg.

Who promptly lunged at him, turning the fight from skill to brute strength.

Aster was on the ground before he entirely knew what was happening. And then, even as he knocked Varg's muzzle to the side and twisted, his blood went cold.

The Canim was bigger and much heavier. Not much stronger, Aster would warrant, but Varg had leverage.

Which meant Aster was going to have to get _creative_.

He grinned, and struck.

Not with his hands - he was busy keeping Varg's teeth from his throat with those. With his feet.

And the hard, sharp claws that tipped each toe.

Varg screamed at the first raking strike. It'd been off angle; Aster had lacerated the Canim's thigh instead of his belly. His next hit was better. His third put Varg's balls at risk, if he was any judge.

The Canim instinctively moved away from the raking strikes, and Aster set his hands on the Canim's chest, his feet on the puppy's hips, and shoved. Varg was thrown backwards, and he landed on his side. Aster was already up and on him before Varg had even landed.

He had the puppy on his back, one foot braced just under Varg's diaphram, claws digging in. And his teeth, blunt but no less dangerous than the Canim's fangs, tight against Varg's jugular.

He snarled against the thick fur and muscle, and dug his hind claws in.

Varg made a sound halfway between a snarl of his own, and a howl, every muscle tense. For a second Aster thought the Canim would forget and continue the attack, and force Aster into tearing open a hole in the brat's neck, but then... he remembered himself.

The tense muscles relaxed, and Varg's head lolled back, exposing even more of his neck. "I yield," he grumbled.

Aster pinched Varg's neck with his teeth, and stood up. He frowned at the brat, and then held out one hand. " _Gadara_ ," he said, and sighed when Varg looked up at him, ears pricked, jaw dropped open in a Canim grin, all but wagging his tail.

" _Gadara_ ," Varg agreed, and took Aster's hand. It took a bit of muscle to pull Varg up onto his feet, and the impudent brat didn't exactly _help_ , but at last they were both standing. Varg grinned down at him, and Aster shook a fist at his nose.

"Bunny?" Tooth asked, her wings beating a threatening rhythm. "What was that?"

Aster snorted, and moved to sit down next to Jack. "Had to put the brat in his place," he said, even as his heart clenched. Varg, his youngest brother. Alive and well, and 'put in his place'. Just as the Canim tradition required. The young challenged their elders, and their elders put the young back in their place, and it ensured the strong prevailed.

"Looked like the two of you were going to kill each other," Jack drawled, and touched Aster's back. His fingers were dark with blood when he held them up.

"Dominance fights rarely end in death," Varg said, clearly going for dignity. It would have worked, too, if he hadn't been smiling like he was. "The stories of my brother have clearly not been exaggerated."

"Stories," Aster muttered. Great. Just what were people saying about him?

"I was disappointed, though, that you didn't go berserk," Varg continued. He folded his arms. "Was I not a challenge?"

Brat. "I'd have torn your throat out," he grumbled.

"No." Jack stretched, and somehow Aster ended up with his mate's feet in his lap. "You'd have immediately started to cuddle me. I'd have made sure of it." He smirked.

The Canim immediately started to chortle, Tarsh and Kalv more subtly than Varg.

Aster glared at them, and then relaxed into the cushions. "Ah, shut your yaps," he muttered, and looked over at North. "So. Everything been going fine?"

North snorted. Behind him, Sandy beamed, looking far too amused for comfort. "They have told us nothing," North complained. "For two days! They say they will only speak to you. Something about garden this and garden that. You said the same word!"

" _Gadara_ ," he said, emphasizing the syllables. "Not garden. Clean out your ears, you old foggy."

"Old!" North spluttered. "Old! Even Jack is older than me! I am baby of group! Old indeed!"

"I thought you were unhappy about that?" Jack asked, looking far too amused for comfort. Aster squeezed his ankle, and looked over at the Canim.

"I'm here now. Time to talk."

Varg snorted, and sat down, apparently unmindful of the blood trickling from the gouges in his thigh and stomach. Mind, Aster was doing his best to ignore the blood trickling down his back and staining the cushions, so he could hardly point fingers.

"Talk about what?" Varg asked.

Aster narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me kick your arse again, pup," he snapped. "Be sure I will, too."

Varg looked entirely too pleased at the threat. "I must set Nasaug to learn from you," he said, sounding thoughtful. "Or better, Tavi. The fledgling is ready to learn from a _proper_ hunt master. He is chaos incarnate, but your mate seems the same." He nodded at Jack, and then his eyes twinkled - _twinkled_ \- just before he added, "Or will you be too busy with your whelps?"

Aster choked. "We're not - we don't-" he stammered.

Jack lashed his tail once. "No whelps," he said, sounding strangely cheerful. "Too soon for that."

"A pity," Varg said, actually sounding disappointed. "Ah, well. I shall just have to inflict Tavi upon you." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, while the other two Canim looked ill. And pale, quite the feat considering their fur.

Aster snorted. "Nice try changing the subject," he said. "I mean it. What're you doing here?"

"Saving your hide," Varg said, and smirked. "Or was it someone else being torn apart by shadow beings?"

"Fearling princes, if you please," he said, trying for dignity. He was aware of North and Tooth taking bowls of popcorn - really? - from the yeti. Apparently they were enjoying the show.

"Fearlings?" Varg asked, and then switched to Canim. " _As the old stories? The swallowers of light?_ "

Aster gapped at him, and then rubbed his forehead. " _How_ old are you?" he asked, somewhat plaintively. "I know my trip bent time, 'cause damn Ombric anyways, but... Fearlings. Shadow beings, yes. Fearling princes, even worse."

"There have not been such things in Pooka controlled space since I was a pup," Varg said, and sniffed. "Forgive me for only having stories to work from."

Aster rubbed Jack's ankle, and was promptly rewarded with a long, purring moan. "Probably because the fearlings are all here," he said. "Pitch's powers got shattered. Not removed, but it's impossible for him to leave the planet now..." He frowned at Varg. "And we're off topic again. Why. Are you. Here?"

Varg lifted his chin, and then tilted his head to the side. "As you wish, _Gadara_. We are here twofold reasons. One, following the trail of my _Gadara_ , Keoni, who came this way for our second reason. The Last Light."

Aster frowned. "The what now? No such thing, mate."

Varg curled his upper lip, and showed off his fangs. "Do you say my _Gadara_ Keoni was wrong? It was copies of his instrumentation that brought us here."

He frowned in return, and flattened his whiskers. "There's no such thing as a _Last_ Light," he said again, and then paused. "D'you mean the _First_ Light?"

The Canim looked as awkward as any of that clan ever did, which wasn't much when all was said and done. There was a bit of embarrassed ear tilting, and for a minute no one met his eyes, but once the minute was up Varg was all but glaring at him again.

"Yes. That is likely the proper name for it, in truth."

Aster relaxed. "It's here," he said, and gestured towards the floor, and the earth beyond it.

Varg inclined his head. "We have come, Gadara, to bring the la - the _First_ Light to the united clans, that a new home world may be started." He straightened up in his seat, shoulders going back. "It is the honour of the True Blood that we have been charged with this task."

Aster paused, and sighed. "Varg... y'can't take the First Light from Earth."

The Canim's response was entirely rude and utterly lacking in words. Once the snarling died off, Aster directed a chiding look his way, and continued. "It's part of Earth's core now. And if you try and take it, brat, I'll slap you down so fast no one'll dig you a grave, they'll just fill in the hole after you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canim have INTERESTING family reunions, don't they? Also, I'm going to be winding the story to a close shortly, with the possibility of a sequel. Mostly because, I'll be honest, I'm starting to get, well, TIRED of writing the fic. I love it to pieces, but dear god it needs to end! Besides that, I've got a lot of other fics to work on - I have NOT forgotten Assassins Jack, guys! - and in the interests of working on my original stuff, I'm trying to keep the fanfic to one running plotline at a time. Which does rather mean less for you to read - I'm sorry - but more likelihood of me getting published this century. Wouldn't you like that?
> 
> On a more personal note, I'm less mute than I was last week. I hope to be fully healed by the time Friday rolls around. And finally, I am never sharing crack ideas with FrostOverlord and Clever Corgi again, because I WILL be writing the story about that time Jack needed to get a Mega Evolution stone in order to have the physical libido to match his mental one, and how they all discovered Bunny will totally fuck an alternate him. And how Jack will move to get a better view of said interaction. Anyways.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four - This is our Land

"Oh. My. God." Jack grinned, eyes dancing. His pupils were still Felis-slits, Aster realized. And they'd narrowed until they were simple black lines, surrounded by near-glowing white and blue.

Aster nonchalantly brushed off his forearms, and grinned. "That a good - ooof!"

He tried to talk, despite the lips pressed desperately to his own, but then Jack started trying to taste his tonsils and talking became rather pointless, anyways. He would have chuckled, but Jack, tongue, not enough room in his mouth for noise. He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, more for the feel of things than to help hold the Felis up. The legs wrapped around his hips, and the arms around his shoulders, were fine on their own.

Jack pulled away. Aster growled, and opened one eye. He hadn't been anywhere _near_ ready to finish the kiss.

"Yes, that was a _good_ 'oh my god'. Where are we?" Jack grinned, and looked around.

Aster did as well, now that the fighting was done - it was done, right? Varg looked like he was done. Well, he looked a bit flat, so that was done. He grinned, and studied the knocked-over shelving, the floor that looked like pounded dirt but wasn't. "Basement," he determined. "Well, one of them."

"North has a basement?" Jack unwrapped himself, and began prowling around, tail curved into a happy little question mark. He picked something up off the floor; his body blocked most of Aster's view.

"Failed toys, failed inventions." This looked like storage for failed toys. Failed inventions tended to go behind better security.

Varg groaned, catching Aster's attention. The Canim shifted about, but didn't seem inclined to rejoin the land of the conscious any time soon. Perhaps he'd hit Varg a bit hard... _Nah_.

"So, is it normal for you to try and kill your brother?" Jack asked. He turned something yellow and wooden over in his hands, and then made a face. "Does... does this duck have three legs?"

Aster frowned at the wooden duck. "Yes," he said. And two bills, too... the elves must have done that one while on coffee.

Jack gasped. "Yes? How many siblings have you _killed_?"

" _What_?"

"Was your childhood like the Hunger Games?" Jack asked, sounding... well, about normal for him, though in the way before finding out he was something other than human. He'd had a tendency to go off at odd angles, then, usually for his own amusement.

And then he'd taken Felis shape and started chasing blowing leaves. Which was probably about the same, now that he thought about it.

Aster reached over and snagged Jack around the waist. "If I knew what the Hunger Games were," he said, and snorted. "I never killed any of my siblings."

"But you said yes, it was normal to try and kill them."

Jack's big, blue eyes twinkled, absolutely ruining his attempt at looking innocent. Aster grinned, and shifted until he was properly looming over his mate. Enough to be, in Jack's words, 'sexy', not enough to even _hint_ at a threat. He waved at Varg.

"That's just a bit of a scrap," he said. "He'll bounce back soon as he's upright."

Jack peered around Aster's shoulder, and giggled. "Yeah, not going to happen for a bit."

"It'll be peaceful until then, at least."

Jack hummed, and nuzzled at the soft fur shielding Aster's throat. "That's true. But... is that normal?" He pulled away, just enough they could look each other in the eye. "Don't get me wrong, watching you wipe the floor with all three doggies at once was awesome, and I have no idea why you're afraid of greyhounds if you can do that, but, uh...?"

"Greyhounds are harder to deal with because they're animals, not people." Aster tugged Jack close again. "And Canim believe in... more direct methods for interpersonal problems."

Like stabbing an enemy in the throat. Tarsh would survive, and like as not would learn from the experience. Someone else would've given him a lethal shave.

Jack grinned, and opened his mouth to reply - something mocking, Aster expected - when North cleared his throat.

"Is anyone dead?"

Aster sighed. "No, North, no one's dead. Where'd the other two end up?"

"Infirmary," North said, and began thumping down the stairs. There were still a few shelves up in that direction, so Aster didn't see the human until he walked out around them, studying the mess with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm.

"The yeti will have to work hard to clean up," he said, and looked down at Varg. He poked the Canim in the ribs with his toe, and when that didn't work, bent down to hoist Varg up on his shoulders. Aster stared; couldn't really help it, not when North was carting around his youngest brother like it was nothing.

There were _bears_ smaller than Varg, who had to be six hundred pounds at _least_. North didn't even grunt.

That... was not fair, actually.

"Come," North said. "Will there be more fighting? And this time, can I help?"

Aster chuckled, and nuzzled just under Jack's ear. "C'mon, mate," he whispered. "Let's go find out why the silly doggies were so stupid."

Jack's grin had fangs. They were small, to fit in his mouth, and rather adorable as a result. "I think Varg has kids, so can I freeze his balls off? It should calm him down..."

"That's just a little _too_ Canim. Don't make that face, North, it's not like they can't grow 'em back..."

* * *

"We require the Last - the First Light," Varg snarled. He reached up to rub at his muzzle, where Aster had torn open a gash nearly to the bone, and Tooth swatted at his hand. He stared at her, ears slanting to the sides in shock.

"If you keep that up, it's going to scar," she snapped.

Aster hid a smile in Jack's hair when Varg growled, "There is nothing wrong with scars."

"Typical male stupidity," Tooth muttered, and shook her head. "I'm surrounded by it. North, stop _poking_ him."

"But he will not wake," North said, in what he undoubtedly thought was a reasonable tone of voice.

"Poking him will not help, so stop - _you stop that_." She slapped Varg's hand again.

"Why do you need the First Light?" he asked, before Varg could either take offense or develop a crush. Canim courting habits wouldn't go over well, and that was discounting North's reaction. And Tooth's. Of course, if the two of them just gave into the inevitable, Varg would know by scent that Tooth was off limits...

Hadn't Varg mentioned whelps? But he hadn't mentioned a mate yet... Aster tucked that in the back of his mind, just in case.

He, for his part, was feeling quite content, all things told. He was sitting in a very comfortable chair, legs propped up on the end of Varg's bed, mate curled up in his lap. He was even feeling reasonably comfortable with the idea of more Pooka - a lot more Pooka. Granted, yes, there was Jack and his siblings and niblings, but by this point any of Jack's relatives were, to all intents and purposes, human. Jack saw being a Felis as a source of amusement, not necessarily identity. But these, these were _Pooka_ , right down to the occasionally bone-headed customs.

And Aster was perfectly reasonable in thinking them bone-headed. It was his culture, he could mock it all he wanted.

Varg half-lifted his hand to rub at his muzzle, and stopped when Tooth buzzed her wings. Perhaps, Aster thought, he didn't have to worry about a crush. Varg didn't look admiring, he looked worried.

"Because we have no planet," he growled, leaning just the slightest bit away from Tooth. "It has been seven centuries -"

"Hell it has," he snapped, before he thought about it. "It's been billions of years!"

Varg actually rolled his eyes at Aster. "For you. For us, in ships, it has been seven centuries." He paused, and wrinkled his nose. "Are the years comparable? Pooka to human?"

Aster snorted at him. "Couple days less, on the human side," he said. "Four or five."

"That is... oddly exact."

"I was here billions of years before the place settled."

Jack lifted his head, and grinned. "You're awesome," he said, and pressed a kiss to Aster's lips. Not much of a kiss, alas, it was over in seconds. As if in consolation, Jack began to purr.

Varg snorted, and almost managed to scratch at his muzzle before Tooth stopped him. At this rate, she'd go off and get some rope.

"There have been entire generations born on the ships." Varg rubbed at his hand. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to find a planet that is both habitable and not already claimed?"

Aster narrowed his eyes. "You haven't tried taking over, have you?"

The Canim rubbed at a scar that stretched from one shoulder to his opposite hip, and didn't answer.

"Probably ran up against someone not inclined to move," Jack murmured. His tail swished over the tips of Aster's toes, fur getting caught briefly on his claws.

"We require the Light in order to make an uninhabitable planet habitable," Varg said, his dignity ponderous and fragile. "Only then can we be a proper people once more."

Aster sighed. Much though he wanted to, he could fit, at most, a hundred Pooka in the Warren before things got too crowded. Less if any of that number were Canim or Equus. Aquilae were right out; they'd never stand for being underground, no matter how cavernous the space. "The Light is not leaving the planet."

Couldn't, even if he was willing to let it. Not only would the loss destabilize the core, leading to an implosion that would kill everything, the chaos prior to said destruction would be... immense. Besides. "Even if it could leave, that'd just let Pitch Black go walkabout through the universe again."

"What?" Varg growled. He wasn't the only one to express his confusion, just the loudest; Sandy, who'd help set things up, looked bored, but Tooth and North clearly wanted answers.

Jack just purred louder, and dug his claws into Aster's chest.

"The Light interacts with the atmosphere. He can't leave it." And if the worst happened, and every last living thing perished, Pitch would still be caught, until even he died. If there wasn't anyone alive to feel fear, there wouldn't be anything for him to feed off of. It'd just take one hell of a long time for the Nightmare King to starve.

Varg grumbled under his breath, but tilted his head to the side in concession. "So we came here for nothing, then," he said. "Keoni never sent this information back. And yet..." He pointed his nose at Jack. "You have his look, and there cannot have been other Felis on this planet."

Jack lashed his tail. "He died," he snapped. "He was my dad, and he got squished by a tree."

Aster carefully wrapped his arms around Jack, holding him close. Jack had sounded more annoyed than grief stricken by the admission, but losing a family member was always difficult.

"No," Varg said, sounding confused. "I do not believe this. Keoni was one of my finest enemies, he could not have been taken down by _vegetation_!"

Jack huffed, and rubbed his cheek against Aster's shoulder. "It's okay, Cottontail, it was a long - Tooth, do you need a handkerchief?"

Tooth shook her head, and leaned back against North. "No, I - I'll be okay. I just, I'm so sorry for your loss, Jack."

Jack huffed, and looked over at North and Sandy, no doubt checking to see if they had anything similar to say. They were, apparently, content to remain quiet; North was staring off into the distance, to all appearances paying the conversation no attention. Sandy flashed a few symbols at Jack, which apparently mollified the Felis.

"It was a long time ago. The tree broke his back, and death was... better. Than when he was in the bed." He lashed his tail again. "Sure, it's possible for people to survive that _now_ , but then..."

Aster hummed agreement, and held Jack just a little tighter.

After several minutes, North cleared his throat. "What about Mars?" he asked.

Tooth hit him on the stomach. "What are you even talking about?" she asked.

"Mars. For the Pooka. It used to have water, according to studies. It simply does not have an atmosphere. Create an atmosphere, and you can begin the sculpting, yes?" North looked around. "Did I miss something?"

Sandy clapped his hands to his face, and shook his head slowly. Aster felt much the same. Jack's response was the best, in his opinion, and it involved a slush-ball to North's face.

Even Varg cracked a smile at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I am going to bring this fic to a close. Because dear god, I'm sorry, there's nothing else. Just a few threads to tie off, I'll keep the option for a sequel open (maybe? I had plans, but then they fell to the wayside, and I have a lot of other fics to be posted, so... don't hold your breath) but yeah. I'm thinking next chapter will be an Epilogue, because I just can't think of anything else to do.


	36. Epilogue - Comfort

Jack nearly bit through his lip; the pain of it, the blood on his tongue, helped steady him. He ran his hands over the back of the shallow cave, looking for a particular crack, that looked no deeper than the rest, but was. Every few seconds he'd shake, and bow his head to hold in - well, to hold it in. He trusted his ears, though, to tell him if _they_ were nearby.

He didn't think _they_ were, but he'd been wrong before. _They_ were quite sneaky.

Jack's tail lashed behind him, as the search dragged on. He was human-shaped and everything, to make finding it easier! Human fingertips were, in his opinion, a dozen times more sensitive than Felis finger-pads.

There was a quiet sound, like gravel shifting against gravel as someone ghosted forward. Jack's search grew more frantic.

Finally, with what seemed mere seconds to spare, he found it. He triggered the release, and winced at the resulting _crack_ and grind as the stone began to separate. It hadn't gotten any quieter, and _they_ had ears just as good as his. Possibly even better. Still, _they_ were being careful not to make noise, even now; Jack was under no such constraints.

The instant the doorway was open wide enough, he squeezed in and triggered it to close. He twisted to look back, just in time to see the first of his pursuers step into view. She was backlit by the afternoon sunlight, her features shadowed except for her frustrated, golden-coloured eyes. Jack grinned and waved just before the doorway closed with a final grumble of rock against rock.

In the privacy and safety of the tunnel, he was finally able to let his emotions run free.

It built quickly. In less than a minute he'd gone from quiet giggles to howling with laughter, and not even clinging to his staff could keep him upright. He sagged back against the wall of the tunnel, and then sank down until he was sitting, staff cradled in his arms. Tears poured down his cheeks, and his sides were sore, and still he laughed.

Every time he thought he was starting to get a grip, something would set him off. Sight of the door. Glittering mica imbedded in the walls. His own two feet.

Jack didn't know how long he sat there, laughing until he felt faintly nauseous. He did know that, during one of his 'trying to control himself' moments, he looked up and saw Bunny.

His mate's expression almost sent him into howling gales again, but he managed to contain it to just giggles. He grinned, one hand half-raised to his mouth, and wiggled his toes. "What's up, Doc?" he asked, and then chortled. It hadn't been that funny, but...

His sense of humour had been well and truly overloaded.

"Laughing gas?" Bunny asked, and moved over to Jack. The tunnel was bigger now; bigger than after Bunny had stabilized the magic, even, since the Leporid felt that if Jack could walk upright without getting dirt in his ears, Bunny should be able to do the same. Even so, Bunny stayed on all fours, for reasons known only to himself.

Jack wasn't going to complain. He liked it when Bunny was upright, tall and strong and just right to tuck himself up against that strong body and cuddle, but he also liked it when Bunny was on all fours, prowling about like the head honcho apex predator he was. He probably would've worried about his brain if he hadn't been a Felis himself, but, well...

Actually, probably not.

"No," he said, and calmed down. "No attacks, no surprises... mostly." His grin widened, and Bunny looked worried. "Tavi and Kitai."

Bunny groaned, and covered his face with one hand. "What'd they do _this_ time?" he demanded.

"Hey, Varg warned us!" Mostly Bunny. Jack was perfectly happy with chaos, especially if he could sit back and munch on popcorn while watching. Movies, real life... as long as innocent people didn't get hurt - an attitude that seemed to be very, very Felis, considering how every other clan member he'd met so far were like cats with mice when it came to the cruel and corrupt - he didn't really care.

Bunny had the more, well, Guardian point of view, that said the less spirits meddled in mortal things, the better. His nephew and niece-in-law weren't spirits, though, which did cause something of a problem for the poor Leporid.

Bunny dragged his hand slowly down his face, and stared at Jack. "How much property damage?"

"Not _much_ ," he assured Bunny. "It's more... how do I put this... Kitai's discovered how to hack computers."

"Guess our luck had to run out at some point," Bunny muttered. Jack hummed, and rolled his staff between his hands. Now, was there enough room between them for him to...?

Bunny seemed oblivious to Jack's contemplations. "Right," he said, and sat back on his heels. "What'd they do?"

Jack grinned, and shifted so he wasn't sitting against the wall any more. "Discovered the KKK," he said. "And subsequently discovered they're still going strong in America."

Bunny closed his eyes. "Oh no," he groaned.

Considering that even the most aggressive and prideful Pooka clan, the Canim, would have been horrified by the _mildest_ forms of racism, and Tavi and Kitai were both Canim-raised, yeah. Jack could imagine what Bunny was afraid of hearing. Which only made what they'd done even better.

"No one's dead," he said, and began angling his staff. He'd have to be fast, and get it right the first time. At least he'd had practice, by now.

"You'd be amazed what you can survive," Bunny snarked.

"Not even any bloodshed," Jack promised. Which was true enough, on the Pooka's parts. What the humans did with the information Kitai had managed to mass-email _every single person and business in America,_ however...

He liked that girl. When she did a prank, she did it with _style_ and commitment.

Bunny closed his eyes, and shuddered. "That makes it worse," he moaned. "They got _creative_."

Jack grinned, and swung. The crook of his staff slid neatly between Bunny's chest and the strap of his bandolier. Before the Leporid could do more than open his eyes in shock, Jack had him hooked. Before Bunny could undo his work, he pulled, and Bunny was quickly yanked off balance and forward onto Jack.

"Hi," Jack said, and pressed his nose to Bunny's. "Imagine meeting you here."

"Jack," Bunny said. His breath, warm and moist, brushed against Jack's lips. "Try to be serious."

Jack hummed, and arranged himself under Bunny better. The Leporid was still up on hands and knees, looming in the _best_ of ways - which was to say, in a way Jack had arranged to suit himself - and licked his lips. "I am being serious," he said. "I had my trick for the day. Now I want my treat."

"Wot?" Bunny asked, even as he shifted in turn, to better cover Jack's body. They weren't touching, but even through his pants and sweater Jack could feel Bunny's heat, radiating from him as if he were an old-fashioned furnace.

"Halloween," he pointed out, and then pressed upwards for a kiss.

Bunny, like the good mate he was, indulged him for several minutes. He moved to deepen the kiss at one point, but Jack didn't reciprocate. That was for later, he decided, and pulled back to lick once at Bunny's lips. He wanted to curl up against Bunny, soak in that heat and feel his mate's fur, but he wasn't much in the mood for sex.

Bunny picked up on it, he had to have, either through Jack's body language or some other sense, because his hands stayed chaste even as they began to wander over Jack's shoulders and upper arms. They separated, one with a pleased hum, the other with a smirk, and got resettled. This time, Jack curled up in Bunny's lap.

For all that Bunny complained about getting dirt in his tail fluff, he seemed perfectly happy to let Jack use him as a chair. Frequently.

"So what'd Tavi blow up?" Bunny asked, sounding as amused as he did exasperated.

Jack couldn't purr as a human, and wasn't much inclined to shift his vocal cords, so he hummed instead. "So, they found out about the KKK," he said. "And Tavi - you know how he gets."

Bunny snorted. "Passionate speeches about how wrong something is, flailing limbs, hackles up..."

"Kitai decided to redirect his attention to the headquarters." Which had been incredibly easy for her, for all that the Klan - apparently being bigots didn't mean they were _entirely_ lacking in working brains, just mostly - had tried to keep their headquarters anonymous. It'd taken her three-quarters of an hour, half of that being spent learning how to hack computer records in the first place.

Well, _human_ computer records. Apparently she was quite gifted in it when it came to Pookan. Considering the kind of comments she and Tavi made about human tech, it must've been like trying to use a rotary phone.

"He blew up the KKK's headquarters?" Bunny didn't even sound surprised. Admittedly, it wouldn't be the first 'evil organization' Tavi sent up in flames.

"No one was inside it," Jack promised. "They even moved the fish tank out."

Bunny paused, and frowned. "Fish tank?"

"Someone's pet goldfish? I dunno." Jack shrugged, and rubbed his cheek against Bunny's collar bone. "And Kitai sent emails to people. The anonymous thing they were doing? Broken. Everyone knows now."

Considering the sudden stance just about every country on the planet was taking against hate crimes, there'd be a lot of arrests coming up, or his name wasn't Jack Frost. Amazing what an alien species showing up and starting to terraform Mars did for humanity.

Made them pull up their pants, for one thing.

Besides, it was harder to hate your fellow man when there were apparent animals - aliens, and intelligent, but still - with spaceships and presumably advanced weaponry, right next door.

At least Tavi and Kitai could more than take care of their selves, and each other. Kitai was another Felis - a very female one, in Jack's opinion, considering how she acted and carried herself. She'd also embraced the feminine pronoun with terrifying glee, though she was as unisex - or bisex was a better term, what with her having both sets of plumbing - as just about every other Felis. Granted, Kitai acted like a warrior Queen of old, more than happy to throw the first punch, last punch, and every punch, as compared to the shop-devouring alpha woman of TV-land.

Tavi was, at first glance, more intimidating than Kitai. He was Aquilae; a previously rare clan that had first gotten rarer after the Pooka home world had been... destroyed... but had then exploded in numbers not long after. Even the smallest of the Aquilae looked like a monster; Tavi was a little over six feet in height, covered in dark brown and russet feathers, and he had a raptorial beak and long talons on both his toes and fingers. That would have been bad enough, but he also had wings, driving home the 'alien' more than Kitai's purposeful misunderstandings, fur, and tail did.

A few idiots had attacked them, but Pooka tech was worlds ahead of Earth's. Personal shields didn't bounce bullets so much as negate their momentum, so they dropped to the ground instead of ricocheting everywhere. And they didn't need to shoot anything back in turn, not when Kitai had been taught fighting from Varg - and was now learning from Bunny - and Tavi had his fighting abilities, and was able to pick grown people up in one hand... and fly with them.

Usually up to about five hundred feet above the ground, at which point would-be murderers were happy to be handed over to the police.

Bunny sighed, jarring him out of his thoughts. "There's no point in contacting Varg about this, is there?" he asked.

Jack tilted his ears back in amusement. "You're kidding, right? One, he told me things would go faster on Mars if _the hellions_ ," he dropped his voice down the register, trying to match the Canim basso profundo, " _are causing trouble elsewhere. We cannot afford to have half our equipment break because they become bored and try making things..._ better _._ "

Bunny snorted. "Dunno why he'd think making them Pookan ambassadors to Earth is any better," he said.

"Well, they're blowing up _human_ stuff, not Pooka." Stuff that deserved blowing up, no less, at least in Jack's opinion. Of course, his opinion was the only one that mattered, and for a very simple reason. Unlike the other Guardians, he was the one out and about among the humans - the _awake_ humans - the most. So he knew.

"What're we going to do with them?" Bunny asked.

Jack snickered. "Maybe it's a good thing we're not looking at kids for a while," he said. Bunny looked offended. "Well! They're not even ours! They're wreaking havoc among the people! Usually there's a very simple answer for fire bombs and hacking computer accounts."

"Yes, but they'd probably think breaking out of jail to be the best kind of fun," Bunny countered.

"Tavi did look interested when I told him about Alcatraz," Jack agreed. Bunny winced.

After a few minutes, Jack continued. "Look. Mars should be habitable in, what, twenty years? They'll get bored with the chaos long before then, get more subtle about it. Until then, it's not like they're hurting kids or breaking anything that matters."

Bunny scowled. "You're horrible," he said.

"You love it."

"Yes," the Leporid admitted, and nuzzled his hair. "I do."

Jack hummed in reply, and began sprinkling kisses over Bunny's muzzle and nose, at least until the Leporid caught his lips and turned it into a proper kiss. Jack was boneless and willing to reconsider waiting until later for sex when Bunny pulled away.

"So," Bunny said. "Why'd you come rushing in here like your tail was on fire, anyways?" He stroked one hand over said tail, sending thrills up Jack's spine.

"They told me what they'd done," Jack said, trying to wiggle closer to Bunny. It was hard, considering how close he was to start off with. "I maybe laughed out loud... in Kitai's face."

Bunny chortled at that. "Better hide in the Warren for a few weeks," he said. "At least until she's distracted from wanting to kill you."

Only too true. Jack sighed, and nodded. Maybe there was something in how Bunny had been moaning and groaning earlier. Now he wanted to moan and groan too. "How am I going to survive them hanging around for the next twenty years?" he asked. "It's not even been six months! If it's not Kitai being cranky, it's Tavi trying to figure out the no-see-um of spirits!"

"Gonna be an interesting couple of years," Bunny agreed. He looked pleased, sounded it, as was only right and proper. Jack nuzzled up under Bunny's chin.

His mate had his people, even members of his family again. Jack had two youngsters he could keep an eye on, for amusement. Kitai was even willing to talk to him about shapeshifting, sometimes. In twenty years the Canim mages would be able to turn their energies to other things, even helping Bunny with his own shapeshifting - maybe in twenty years they'd be ready for children. Or maybe not.

It wasn't like there was any rush, after all. Interesting as things got, they were spirits.

They had all the time in the world.

Jack was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's right - epilogue. As in done. Yup, Two Pooka is done - I'm a bit sad. I'll admit, when I started the fic I had grand plans about wars between the stars and a lot more about the Pooka (and Bunny discovering that, though the species is right, the culture he knew is dead and gone and being quite put out about it) but I just... got burnt out. I'd like to revisit this 'verse some day, though probably not for more than a one or two-shot.
> 
> In other news, I've begun work (finally) on Aeglos. Assassin Jack 2 - Road Trip. I like the start, I think it's fun. It's probably going to be a (long) one-shot, maybe a two-shot, but there's literally one thing they have to do. One. Even with a battle it won't go long, and I still don't know if there's going to be a fight scene... Anyways.


End file.
